Cycling India and SE Asia

Ten Nights In Bangkok

2009-05-17T02:44:00.000-07:00

In choir school as a child we song a compilation of songs from the Musical Saigon. There was one that went…

One night in Bangkok
makes the hard man crumble
I can feel a devil walking next to me...

This song shaped my view of what Bangkok would be like. Our experience of Bangkok were nothing like my visions of wartime brothels and blatant criminal activity, however we did notice you could buy a hand gun and bullets at a booth on the street corner!
In reality Bangkok seemed to be a modern city build on top of its old world self, the gaps between retained some of its rural rustic pre-industrial feel. Nows it’s a Mega city stretching on forever, with narrow busy streets full of traffic jams and toxic air. And what a city to cycle in! We actually enjoyed some of the mad weaving in and out of serious city cycling!
Hilariously we stayed in an area called Tao San. It’s a street that you turn onto that is suddenly cram packed with tourists, tourist restaurants and tourists shops. At night this street is so heaving with partiers its hard to walk, we were happy to have been tucked away a few blocks from the epicentre of noise and madness, with some trees and fresh air.
We happened to be in Bangkok for Thai New Year (April 15) which normally would mean one day of water fights and getting covered in clay. These were traditionally blessings endowed upon the young from the old. However, in the epicentre of party madness we were ‘blessed’ for 4 entire days.We were unable to leave our hotel without being drenched or soiled. We indulged in the fun for a day, buying the big water guns and a big bottle of rum, after that however, we felt mostly trapped in our hotel or tried to be good sports when someone poured ice water down your back when all you wanted was to get some dinner.

The trapped feeling continued as government shut down all services because of the red shirt protestors. We happened upon some of the militarized areas ...these guys weren’t so scary.

Because we came to Thailand by land we were only given a 15 day visa which we had to wait to extend until the offices reopened. Getting out of Thailand became the theme behind our trip.

Time as our new motivator we took a train half way down Thailand and started cycling from there. We were in BLISS as our random choice of destination was amid a national park, a gorgeous place to start cycling. We stopped our iPods and instead listened to hours of birds and humming insects of the jungle.
As it turns out Thailand is excellent for cycling. Every road we’ve been on has an ample marked shoulder! The roads are a far cry from ruff rural Cambodia, with little traffic its all smooooooooth sailing. The landscape is so lush and the air clear and full of oxygen. Even the road kill is good!

List of cool road kill in Thailand:
1. Cobras!
2. BIG Iguana
3. Bat
4. Butterflies
5. Big Beetles
6. Various amphibians
7. Scorpions!!!!!

As you can imagine, where there’s dead animals on the road, there’s lots of live ones! One of the best was this unsquashed scorpion that posed for a photo.

We continued South making good time as enjoying rural Thailand. We headed for he car-free island of Ko Payam which was wonderfully deserted as we neared the end of high season. Our first night involved a beach hut which was very open to the outside. That night our room was alive with large shiny emerald beetles landing heavily on our bug net attracted to our reading light and cute frogs croaked from our outdoor toilet. We opted for a more secure bungalow for the next night and enjoyed the rest of the time on our visa enjoying the fire flies, giant beetles, quiet beaches, fellow travellers and vegetarian food this island had on offer.

The crabs here walk in hoards for safety while relocating at low tide.

After doing so, they’d pattern the beach with little balls of sand which they made while filtering out the nutrients, the balls helped them track what sand they had already filtered.

Even the birds on this island sung in full sentences, as if no one were listening.

When we got to Ranong we were able to do a visa run into Burma to get another 2 week visa. This operation would have been relatively sane except for the weather. We huddled in one of the many small rickety old boats which could hold about 12 persons max and puttered our way out to sea in choppy waves, amid a downpour. I wish we had brought out camera for this one. We looked like refugees covered in plastic ponchos, while a young Burmese boy scooped buckets of water out, we were glad land was always in sight. We brought the Burmese border guards our ironed $10 US which passed as acceptable and returned to Thailand within three hours, wet and glad that we knew how to swim.
We continued on to visit a marine national park of the Surin Islands. There we saw this flying lemur resting on the tree right above its interpretive sign (if only all animals would oblige!). It has a periderm for gliding and is nocturnal. This is the best picture we could get of it.

We heard the feeding screeches of the flying fox at night(a BIG bat that looks like a fox, they use their bigs eyes instead of echolocation). We even encountered a family of shy island monkeys while on a trek.

We witnessed some of the devastation to the coral reef from the Tsunami. Much of it was dead but showing a slow recovery. Many of the fish were still present though!

At this point we had a deadline to get into Malaysia by May 10th. So off we continued pumping our pedals. We did 409km in 5 days, rested for two and did he last 160km in two. We found the time to rent a moped and visit what seemed like a Buddhist theme park. This Wat was complete with ice cream stands, plastic paraphernalia and Buddha on a plane.
(pic) We made it and hopped a ferry over the Malaysia border!

We were excited to reach Malaysia as Thailand was AMAZING for nature, it was not as culturally stimulating as the rest of our trip thus far. It was almost too easy! Apparently Northern Thailand has more indigenous culture.

It seems more we travel the less we know. Its interesting how we're gaining insight into people from different parts of the world, and different ways of living. Its like, we've seen the origins of ‘the Vancouver special’ in context, and for the first time we really get it. It also lends perspective on ourselves and a view of how people must see US. I’ve decided this experience would not be complete without the writing of a blog apon our return to Vancouver. Seeing it from the other side.

Cheerio....stay tuned for the ever exciting Malaysia blog!

Our Kms in Thailand:

Chumphon to Kuriburi = 58km
to Ranong= 60km (side trip to Koh Payam)
to Kura Buri= 115km
to Ko Lak Si=95km
Phang Nga=98km
to Krabi = 88km
Klong thom= 37km
to Trang 85km
to Thung wa 74km
to Satun 72km
Thailand TOTAL=782km!
(ferry to Malaysia)

Cambodia: The heavy and the happy

2009-04-15T18:57:00.000-07:00

We did it, we crossed our first border by bike! Entering Cambodia we walked through a series of booths first on the Vietnam side, then on the Cambodian. Its great when the warning from the guide books actually help you. Again, we were ready for the usual tricks played by police or government employees. The man at the 4th booth said there was a fee for the ministry of health, 30,000 Dong. This is were Lisa comes in ‘we were told that we only had to pay for our Visas, nothing more, no more payments’. I ask, ‘Do you have a form or official receipt for this? . ‘No, okay, 20,000 Dong’, he says. ‘You have to pay unless you have your immunization cards. Ha! We promptly wiped them out. The men looked surprised and could do nothing more. Later losers! We win.
As soon as we hit that invisible line, the world changed. The roads were dirt, the buildings all hand built, with palm roofs and there was space, fields and trees and very few cars. We were in Cambodia. The road was bad, the next 20kms were gruelling but beautiful. We were invited to join a wedding procession occurring along the road but we had to keep on, as the day, and the heat, were wearing on. We were worried but luckily hit pavement at the junction and the remaining 50km were far better.

The first thing you should do when you get to a new country is learn a few words. Hello, Thank you, good bye, yes, no, are a great start. It opens doors, helps people to relax, so you appear not so alien and misunderstood, it helps people relate to you, and they appreciate it! Its also the best way to get a group of girls hilariously giggling that they almost fall off their bikes. One market women was so tickled with Lisa’s greeting she kept giving her extra food. Of course there are those other times when someone calls you a ‘Barang’ and won’t help you either, its good to know those words too ;p.

Cambodia spoke to us in so many ways, and we listened. Along the roads children would yell ‘hello’ at us and we’d respond ‘so si die’ back much to their glee. We were celebrities in this endlessly rural landscape, counting 13 ‘hellos’ in one kilometre. Cambodia spoke to us through history books, (the second thing you should do when you get to a new country), museums, temples, its people and their limbless bodies. We are taken aback by its history, recent and ancient, and how it was brought to the present. Cambodia is still so rustic and undeveloped making it a beautiful place today, but having to bare so much pain it was not worth it. Cambodia in recovery as it wakes from the war.

For Cambodia, only 30 years ago, had lost 50% of its population to auto-genocide, headed by the Kymer Rouge. A communist faction hoping to create and impose a Utopian egalitarian classless society. Removing all freedom of choice, the entire city (Phnom Pen) was emptied and city people and city things (like cars, books and pens) were labelled capitalist. In April 1975 the people were marched to the country, enslaved and re-educated with forced labour, starved and dehumanized. Country people were given special standing for being righteous and given special privilege, the soldiers were God and carried out executions in private and at will. Everyone educated was evil, even people with glasses were killed. In short, the entire country became a concentration camp and a giant social experiment. Creating a DEEPLY classed society. Everyone had to eat together, wear the same clothes and had no individual rites. Money and religion were abolished. Everything was done in the name of The Angkor (very Orwellian), individual thoughts or wants were not allowed. Rations got so bad at times as 8 people per 1 cup of rice/day. Cans of rice became the new currency which the soldiers siphoned off from rations.
I could go on and on, but its best if you read “stay alive my son” or “first they killed my father”, harrowing survivor stories, real page turners that kept me up a night.
In the end what I learned from all this is the importance of the freedom of choice. And that the urge to make everyone think like you is a bad one. We must except our differences and not force or impose ideals. Education is important for all. Ignorance kills. There is no perfect society, to err is to human, and we must be allowed to err. Easily said, but why does this horrifying stuff keep repeating itself?
In one book I read the Author writes how the beauty of the world used to torment her when the world had gone insane. I can see why. it’s the pain of the contrast. Like when we visited the killing fields. In this beautiful place among singing birds, the soft rustling of leaves and under their dappling shade is where they found the mass graves of thousands. When paranoia stuck its highest among the Kymer Rouge, they started killing everyone who may want to avenge them. A chilling place where clothes still stuck up from the soil and the beautiful trees were used to beat the babies to death on in front of their parents. There is a deep silence here, a silence of the silenced. I don’t think any ghosts wanted to stay behind.
We also visited S-21. Pol Pots prison in Phnom Pen, not far from the killing fields. Here you can walk through the 3 x 6 cells thousands were kept in, or the torture rooms where the wire beds and shackles remain. Only 7 of 16,000 men, women, children and babies survived. It was created from a school that was emptied, another painful contrast. There feeling here, gets at your spine, there are some rooms I could not stand in.
Now all this might make the UN trails against the K.Rouge a little more interesting for you, though I believe the trails recently broke down??

This temple houses the skulls of thousands from the site in their honour.

We also visisted the land mine museum. There are approximately 3-6 million landmines still buried in Cambodia. This museum/orphanage is run by an ex-Kymer Rouge child soldier who has personally remove 50,000 landmines himself- more than he had planted during the regime. Many are slowing continuing this battle.

All this being said, the feeling in Cambodia in general is a warm one. There are so many warm gentle welcoming faces here, that seem innocent and in love with life. Its hard to imagine this all happened so recently. The people have strong spirits and lots of help from the outside!
One thing we’ve noticed in Cambodia is a strong NGO presence. Every town had at least one restaurant that helped support the disabled or street kids. We frequently saw Unicef trucks or anti-landmine vehicles. Ancient pottery revival and traditional crafts to empower women. We enjoyed putting our money to work and shopping and eating at the right places!

We cycled from the border up to Phnom Pen. Our second day there, Lisa’s neighbour from work walked through the door of our hotel. We figured this must be a sign to spend a few days sight seeing together! Very uncanny!

The scenery was consistently gorgeous with little traffic, excellent air. Lots of smiling faces to buy fruit from along the way, but we played a constant game of Good Road-Bad Road. It went from nicely paved road to dirt and rocks where occasionally we’d have to get off and walk. After our time in Phnom Pen we couldn’t get a clear indication of what was coming between there and Siem Riep (where Angkor Wat is), there was also no way of knowing is there were enough places to stay along the way, its seems only small villages for the next 300km or so. So we took a boat! Scenes alway the way included bathing water buffalo, and many tiny rural settlements like this one!

Siem Reap was a cute canal town near the temples of Angkor, we found a really nice and cheap guest house so we happily hung out and spent 3 days exploring the ancient temples. An amazing chapter in Cambodian history, full of kings and queens, princes and peasants, Buddha and his temples. Many of the statues lost there heads during the Kymer Rouge regime but…there are still many treasures to be found in and around the temples of Angkor…

Beware, too many temples have inherent risks!

A scene from a town along the way. Cradle amongst the rebar. Most cambodians have to take their children to work, or work where they live.

We were sad to leave Cambodia, but my back tire finally gave in. After an arduous ride of 102km, some bad roads, two flats, a ripped tire, and a makeshift patch, I walked my bike for the last km into town. We were forced to take a car to the nearby border of Thailand, once on the other side we trained it to Bangkok. The only place on our entire route where I could get a replacement. No more broken spokes and flats! I was elated!
Goodbye gorgeous Cambodia…hello mega city Bangkok!

Is that plastic bag moving?

2009-04-04T02:36:00.000-07:00

We left India without a hitch, having spent 6 hours outside Mumbai airport, they’ll only let you in 3 hours before. Our flimsy bike boxes were shrink wrapped and off they went. We arrived in Singapore, having reverse culture shock, we wanted to roll around on the carpets they were so clean. Everything was orderly and shiny. If you look out the window in Singapore there’s a sterile order, eerily there’s not a speck or piece of litter on the ground, an un-lived-in feeling compared to the seething life of India. After a few hours of luxuriating we hopped the next flight to Ho Chi Minh (or Saigon); every place that’s been conquered has at least 2 names.
We were prepared, having read our travel book we went for the reputable taxi company and pre-paid a reasonable fair to the city. On the way out he handed his half of the receipt to the man at the ticket booth, who I saw dropped it. They were in cahoots. He made actions of payment, trying to suggest there was a toll, doing so with the worst fake laughter ever. I showed him my ticket, which he tried to snatch away. He took us into town, and ferociously complained like a whining spoiled child as he didn’t help us find our hotel. It was like living in a cheesy over-dubbed movie where he spoke Vietnamese and acted crazy and we acted crazy back in English. 5 minutes later we did find the hotel. Lisa made it very clear that he’d be getting no more money from us, with an evil stare and threats that needed no translation. So much so that he stopped complaining, asking or even looking at us. I knew her bodyguard talents would come in handy on this trip! Yay, she kicks butt.
Anyhow, that being our first mildly annoying experience in Vietnam, is was our last. The people have been warm, happy, kind, every taxi driver since then has been fair and taken a direct route. We’ve received offers of people wanting to buy us coffee who we meet while cycling. 4 times so far locals have shared food, given us fruit we’ve never tried, or bought us a little gift at the market. It touches us every time, we’ve learned to except, say thank you in Vietnamese, always share food with people around you and not always think you have to give something back.
Arriving here we immediately noticed the difference in air quality in Vietnam. Though it is still not great and people are conscientious enough to wear trendy breathing masks while scooting around on mopeds. And that’s what everyone does. There are hundreds of mopeds at any given intersection in Saigon. Crossing the street here is a different kind of art. It is done slowly, as the mopeds weave around you, and you make no sudden moves. Actually its quite safe when you get the hang of it and no one drives too fast.

We stayed 5 days in Saigon where we ate at vegetarian restaurants, organized our Cambodian Visas and visited the war remnants museum. It’s a good one, so much so that we both cried. In this place, the Americans were a horror. Terrorising the civilians and poisoning them for at least a decade to come. What a horrible, terrible, dreadful war and a sad mirror to look into.

Vietnam is enchanting in its own way and hits way closer to home. We only spent time in the most southern part of Vietnam, the Mekong Delta and my reflections speak only of this region. Its been easy to navigate, almost too easy. Vietnam is modern and no so at the same time. There is a large middle class and the cities, roads and hotels are spiffy. Homes range from solid walls with colourful exteriors to shacks on stilts patched together with tarps over hanging polluted water ways. Its a mix of two worlds between the cities and rural Vietnam.

Our presence does not seem so alien, we are not the subject of relentless staring in restaurants, nor does one worry about showing too much leg or do we seem so incredibly privileged like a couple of futuristic space aliens on shiny bikes rolling into a village. So things have toned down about ten degrees which is comfortable, but sometimes too comfortable.
We still do get children blowing kisses and waving ’hello’ at us and they still crowd around, like when we stopped to fix a flat. Here’s a picture of a group of kids Lisa taught to say nose, mouth, eye and bum in English, to many giggles. Then they taught her back in Vietnamese, in a chorus as she pointed to each body part. Precious, absolutely precious. If I hadn’t had so many flats and broken spokes I would say it was a blessing in disguise.

Cycling itself has been a breeze. There’s usually a shoulder, its pancake flat, most people travel by bike or moped and the big trucks are used to 2-wheeled travellers generally giving lots of space. Besides my wheel our only major problem has been the heat. Its so very humid here, it’s a completely different ball game. We sweat buckets and have to drink buckets. I’ve constructed arm covers out of an old pant leg to stave off sunburn. By 11am the sun is grumpy-inducing so we’ve started leaving at 530am rather than 630am and max out at about 80km.
After leaving Saigon we had a few hard days of finding vegetarian food. With no help from the Lonely Planet we eventually learned that all we had to do was look for the word CHAY. Buddhists here eat 4 days out of the month as vegetarians, otherwise everything has meat in it. Once we figured it out, every town seemed to have at least one Chay restaurant and a few chay street stalls. We ate cheap cheap cheap!
The Vietnamese have a reputation for eating anything that crawls, flies or slithers. Deep fried sparrows are a speciality…I’m serious. A trip to the local market was always an experience, we saw things like water snakes and some large endangered molluscs. One morning we had bought some boiled eggs on the street for an early morning breakfast. When I cracked one open I noticed a thin reddish liquid leaking out. Ódd’I thought, continuing I found the egg was a partially formed chick, with a spinal cord, a large eye spot and a liver. ahhhhhhhhhhh! I hid the egg from Lisa, who can’t make it through the meat and game sections of the market.
If you order something any where, whether street stall, market or store, it goes in a plastic bag. We’ve done our best, to many bedazzled looks, practically fighting people off, to stop them from giving them to us. But there is little conscience about litter here. We’ve seen waitress clean tables by throwing the plastic bottles over the railing into the river. For many who live along a canal, is how you take out the garbage. No one looks twice, except us, as the ocean and the rivers have stopped washing the garbage away and chokes more and more back at them. One could make a HUGE global impact here, by getting India and SE Asia to deal with its garbage properly. Thought it’s a price of cheap progress (plastic) with no infrastructure.

EVERYTHING and I mean EVERYTHING goes in a plastic bag. Can you guess what he's about to do? Yes...its still alive.

Along our route we hopped over on the “Super Dong ferry” to Pho Quoc Island were we stayed a week by a beach we couldn’t swim at for jellyfish and took a snorkelling trip! The first location was beautiful, the second, kind of sad for all the fishing nets that had snared the reef, it was in obvious decline, with signs of bleaching. Even the tour company decided to take a piece! We regretted not asking if the company had an environmental policy before heading out. Language barriers can be problematic at times like these.

We plan to write a few letters about this one! Luckily some areas are protected, though they do not exist in a vacuum and the reefs still battle with the effects of pollution, poaching, global warming and litter.

I couldn’t have imagined the beauty of the reef, it was an emotional experience.

Then...We headed for the Cambodian Border….
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Here’s a posting of our route through the Mekong delta region for interested parties:

Saigon-My Tho - 70km
May Tho-Ben Tre - 20km
Ben-Tre to Vinh Long - 80km
Vinh Long to Can Tho - 34km
Can Tho- Loung Xuyen - 65km
Loung Xuyen-Rach Gia - 80km
Rach Gia-Doung Dong, Phu Quoc Island - ferry ride plus 18km
Return as above - 18km
Rach Gia to Ha Von - 72km
Ha Von to Ha Tien - 20km

Total Days in Vietnam = 20
Total for Southern Vietnam = 477km

Finally lots of continuous riding!

Goodbye Mumbai, you made us laugh, you made us cry

2009-03-04T05:01:00.000-08:00

I know, I said I was finished writing about India, but apparently India was not finished with us. We’ve returned to Mumbai with new eyes and ears, being here again, we see it differently. At first it was so different, loud and daunting. Now, it’s a place we know, can find the way to our favourite spots without a map and we know what to say to taxi drivers to get a fair deal. Its decrepit state is less shocking and more charming, the smells have dulled and become usual. Once the streets appeared to be lined with flimsy shacks of unknown dirt and fragility. Now they are friendly, highly efficient, useful stalls full of necessities, and pleasures, exuding heaps of charisma ,where you could find anything and anyone to help you. Its better than any sterile disconnected fake shopping mall void of connection to reality.
Not just all this, but Mumbai had a few last experiences to work us through a roll of emotions:

ANGER, FRUSTRATION, COMPLACENCY
While arguing with an internet provider about why we don’t want him to keep our photo on record, in a noisy road-side, internet stall, we were accosted by a street family who were asking for money. They aggressively drumming and danced and I think not for entertainment, more to annoy you until you paid for them to stop. We don’t make a habit of giving to aggressive beggars. The children all of 3 and 7 had to be peeled off me and scolded until the internet owner gave in for us, and handed over some rupees. The next time I saw them I decided I would go for the mom to get her to call the kids off….but no, not a flinch, I guess my worse look is not so scary. This continued as I walked down the street, until a friendly Indian knew what to do, he gave her rupees! Ahha! Finally, the third time, we had figured them out, since the kids seemed to enjoy the game of aggravation, the best thing was to completely ignore them, no reaction at all, no eye contact, no nothing. This worked and was the unfortunate only way out. Not looking at people sucks, especially since I never want to go blind. But I learned a valuable lesson, anger is only useful in few situations.

A girl on the way home from school

One boy begging between the traffic

HUMBLED and MYSTIFIED
Finding a bike box was more of a challenge then anticipated. In a un-wasteful country like India, they do not use vast amounts of paper resources to ship bikes around. We called every bike shop in the yellow pages when we happened upon a company that explained that was not their usual business, but that they would go out of their way to help us out at no cost. Wow. This kind of thing has happened a few times in Mumbai. So the next day they had found us some boxes and we went to pick them up. We arrived at their office, in and interesting industrial part of Mumbai, bordering some Mangroves which, through a gap between the gallapiated industrial buildings you could barely see a far-off flock of migratory flamingos. The boss took us to his office to await the arrival of the boxes. He gave us food and tea and had us chat with most of the employees and his cousins and co-businessmen. They chatted with us on various topics while intermittently taking business calls by yelling and rolling many fast r‘s. This gave Lisa a serious case of the always inappropriate church giggles. We brought them fancy expensive sweets, they gave us their company calendars and took our pictures. The boss man was just tickled to be able to help us out, without payment, only to be a good person, make friends, improve his Karma and please his Gods. It was really ridiculously nice.
His cousins drove us home since he lived near our hotel. We were unable to refuse an offer for dinner and drinks (given a no hanky-panky clause). Turns out these dudes were the big men on campus. They were loaded and loved to order everyone around. Everybody in the neighbourhood knew them, and were afraid of them or enslaved to their wealth and power. They fed their egos by entertaining some tourists for the evening. It was quite a ridiculous show of snapping fingers and waiters tripping over us. This guy loved to make himself feel better than others and got ruder and more self-important as the night went on and our respect for his generosity waned. It was truly a strange experience. The doorman at our hotel was agape when we got out of this guy’s car, though the service has been measurably better at our hotel since then. He also offered us the aid of any person in his hood as we required, they would have to comply. Weird, weird, weird.

The businessmen

LAUGHTER
We’ve been staying near the airport, an expensive cab ride into town, where we had to go retrieve some things we left in storage. So we ventured for the local train, notoriously busy, sometimes impossible to get onto so we tried for non-peak hours. We navigated the ticket lines and got help finding our platform. We boarded the women’s only car, feeling quite at home of course. The trip into town was uneventful, the trip back was something to write home about. Firstly, a man walking past the car door roughly grabbed Lisa’s shoulder and spun her about, thinking she was a guy who had got on the women‘s car. She pointed out two of her most feminine features as he blushed and took off. The girls on the car had lots to chat and giggle about with us after that. We road packed into the car like chickens with a few hanging out the doors, ablaze with full of colourful saris. At the stops women would run and push for a seat like I’ve never seen before, rodeo style, sometimes they pulled each others pony tails. It made us laugh and laugh.
After sometime riding along we heard screams and commotion. A rat! Now and then it would run over someone’s feet, its position indicated by the jostling and screaming in different sections of the car.

A new bunch of ladies boarded, one calling Lisa sir again and again even after she had explained, they were being a bit annoying so Lisa decided to give out some medicine. Like an expert actress she screamed, pointed down, and shrieked ‘rat!’. The ladies almost jumped into each others arms! They completely forgot about Lisa’s hair. Its was PRESCIOUS. If you’re ever in Mumbai, you’ve GOT to try the local train!

The best of urban argiculture, lettuce growing along the train tracks.

We left India, Lisa sad and Michelle a little relieved we made it to Ho Chi Minh (Saigon), Vietnam with ease. We reminisced while watching Slum Dog millionaire on the plane, about all the places we had just been.

The next adventure begins and we are excited to be here!

2009-02-21T05:02:00.000-08:00

In a fury of packing and giddiness we left Calicut. Onward and upward, up to the mountains, spiralling and winding up towards Waynard Wildlife Sanctuary. Passing small busy Indian towns along the way. Piloted by a young Indian James Dean, our tourist taxi ripped and tore the roads for a couple thousand feet. He drove like a sixteen year-old in a Ferrari, trying to impress his older friends, high on speed. He actually pulled the classic horror move: Tiny two-lane road winding up a mountain, he decides to pass a truck that’s already passing a bus. Three vehicles thick are we’re all facing a blind corner. But don’t worry, every one was honking.

I’ve got to stop hoping for some pristine jungle paradise. There’s no escaping the air, you see, pollution rises. The morning mist is laced and any far-off view was corrupted.

The young Indian James Dean unexpectedly stopped at a view point for us to take a picture. Putting his foot up on the short rock wall he leaned on his knee looking out proudly like a farmer looks out over his fields. He was either blind or the heavy smog or its significance was lost on him.

This entire India experience has left me with a strong feeling of connection. I can relate so closely to many things about this place, they just need a little translation. Though this is not my country, I feel it is my planet. I know that the sound of trees in the wind, the ocean waves, a cool breeze and the dappling of shade and afternoon sunlight has the same effect on all people.

I can see that what happens here matters to us. There are no borders when it comes to pollution and ignorance. Ignoring this now will bite us in the butt later. There are 1 billion people here. 1 billion, and all the air and oceans are connected.

Escaping from the big city we situated ourselves in one of the many small bustling towns near Waynard Wildlife Sanctuary, which was almost as loud and busy in its main street. Just when we had accepted our fate of loud towns and sore lungs, our shallow breathing began to deepen as the smog cleared and we were treated to some very clear days and finally started to feel like the nature paradise that we were seeking. We took day trips into the park. Our only option on day 1 was a jeep tour, having somewhat recovered from the serious jostling we received the day before we headed out. With a good driver and ranger hanging out the back window. Our first wildlife encounter were 3 huge tusked elephants tied to trees, perhaps this wasn’t the type nature reserve we had expected. The driver sensing our sadness pushed on slowly into the park, after some amazing termite hills and clear signs of elephants, there they were… wild elephants, walking amongst the trees, well and free. Lisa cried.

The next day we haphazardly were able to arrange a 14km day trek. We bought some food for ourselves and our guide and headed into to forest and grasslands of Waynard. We walked briskly up hill for half a day, our guide armed with flip-flops could have left us in the dust, he eventually persuaded us that he should carry our day pack. We saw 3 different types of monkeys, blond, black and a rare red monkey.

We stopped for lunch on some large rocks. After eating some deathly spicy curry, he started making us climb through, over and under the large boulders. There was no explanation as to why since there was no common language between us. Eventually Lisa communicated that she would go no further for fear of heights and claustrophobia. I descended into a dark hole with this kind and quiet man, climbing over fissures and lifting ourselves over boulders in the dark. He helped me with a flashlight, presumably words of encouragement, mimicking rock climbing techniques and the occasional poke in the bum. He was so purposeful in our decent and I was beginning to wish I knew what that purpose was.
The result was even better because I didn’t know it what was coming. We started to hear the squeaks and shrieks of bats. Oh my God! We had precariously descended into a bat cave! There were thousands of them, and they were big. All a flurry with activity as I looked up they showered me with their guano (bat poo). Inside the cave, for fear of falling and exhaustion I actually had to give a firm ‘no’to the final rock he wanted me to climb over. Shaking with excitement and adrenaline I was happy to be where is was.
We rejoined Lisa and happily descended the second half of the day, in the heat of the sun we were over exposed and relieved for the intermittent oasis of trees and rivers.
Burnt, tired and satisfied we had found what we had sought, the natural history of India, intact and protected in a small pocket of earth.

Down from the park that evening, back to our hotel, we enjoyed our first pubic bus ride, with separate sections for women and men. Commroding with the women at the front is always a good time.

The next day we descended into Kannur, again by car, as the mountain roads were too periless for bikes. There the and spent some hours at the train station arranging a train to Karwar, past Mangalore. We decided to skip Mangalore which in recent days has seen some scary events aimed at non-traditional women. Further, certain groups promised to deal aggressively towards couples celebrating Valentines day, so we decided to take our love and liberty elsewhere. One particularly non-progressive news heading went something like: ‘drinking in pubs leads to rape, violence, alcoholism and mental-illness’ after the event where said group beat the men and assaulted the women in a Mangalore bar. Hum. A clear case of creating ones own reality.
‘For this train ride we opted for the A/C class train car, but this one was surprisingly more infested with multi-generations of cockroach. I was able to nap, Lisa choose to watch over me. We arrived at 9pm and cycled into town in the dark, in search of a hotel. After asking around and visiting every probable hole-in-the-wall we found one that had space and looked OK and we were promised there were no cockroaches.
Being mosquito free we slept without bug nets. You can surely guess what happened next. I awoke with a humdinger of a cockroach on my foot and pillow. It was 5am. So we packed up to leave. We took the beast in a glass to the front desk to aid in our argument for a discount at this overpriced haven of dirt. With no success we released the culprit on the desk hoping for some reaction, and cycled off into the night. Avoiding the silhouettes of cows on the road we made Goa, the tourist province, by 9am.
Cheap beach destinations can attract interesting characters of people. From arrogant jerks that think they are better than everyone to the earnest health seeker here to spend time practicing yoga, cleansing and going to ashrams. We enjoyed one amazing conversation with an ex-crew member from the Mont python series. He was full of astonishing anecdotes of John Cleese and co. This is were he is spending most of his retirement.
We spent 3 loud restless nights in a beach hut surrounded by European party seekers. This was no longer India. One 18 year-old in the body of a 47 year old man was our neighbour. By the time we left, Lisa was embarrassed to say he was from her home town Aberdeen, Scotland. It was however, good for a piss-up after months of dry travelling, even if it did involve discussing the joys of watching tele and scratching ones balls.

V-day on the beach, the perfect picnic:
(Valentine’s day in Palolem)

We cycled on to the next beach, Agonda. We knew it would be perfect because all of the partiers in Palolem said Agonda was boring. Here we stayed for a week in a beach hut to swim, take short bike rides into town and hang out in the hammock. This beach is undeveloped enough to support a few sea turtle nests. A night watchmen sleeps beside them in a hut to guard this endangered animal, while we slept one night about 140 eggs hatched out of one. The watchmen helped them to sea in baskets and away from the confusing lights of the restaurants and small resorts.

It was the perfect end to an amazing time in India.

So that’s it soon we head back to the deliriously amazing city of Mumbai. We’ve done a good amount of cycling and a lot of exploring. We’ve met some cyclists who were undaunted by the traffic and many people who thought we were insane to even try. It takes all kinds!

We will miss India, it was too short, we’ve only scratched the surface.

Next to Vietnam!

Some great extras:

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2009-02-06T07:03:00.000-08:00

Lesson 21 from India: Things are not always as they appear.

Our last night in Fort Cochin they treated us to dinner and authentic toddy (fermented coconut) YUM. Over dinner they shared the real story about Pinky, the 13 year old cousin that works for them and sleeps in the kitchen. Contextually the rest of the family sleeps in the living room. This was a little less of a Cinderella story than we had thought. She is from a very poor family in the North. Her last job was working in a hotel from 6am-12am, in the middle of the day she went to school. With no care from her parents or brothers she lived in rags and her destiny was ultimately to be sold off into marriage at a very early age. Working with the homestay family she’s far better off. She is paid well, has nice clothes, some freedom and can save for her dowry. In this progressive province she won’t marry until after the age of 21. Her boss cares for her but is strict to keep her from taking advantage which, apparently she has done before. Such a shy smile. She won’t even accept a chocolate bar unless you put it in her hand. Her sister will be joining her soon to work at the homestay. This family has rescued her. Still she will never be their equals, have the same love, privileges, or the freedom to just be a child. At 13 she must care for the 6 and 9 year old.

Cheesy angst poem:

Pinky Pinky makes excellent chapathy.
She washes my clothes,
but drinks no toddy.

Thirteen, thirteen, do you get a hug,
In between dishes and cleaning the rug?

I want to walk and tell you its fine
And give you the freedoms of my women-kind.

Would you believe me if I said I am not better than you?

I’m glad your sister is coming.

We left for the road at 6am, the kids and Lisa cried as we said goodbye. As always she has made an impression with her genuine love and affection for children. We will keep in touch with them.

We made it to Cherai Beach but Lisa was taken down with another heinous cold. After a restless night sleeping with little biting red ants we ditched that town and enjoyed a hair raising ride to Guruvayur. This is a hopping temple town with few foreign tourists so we stayed at a very swanky hotel for $16 until she got better. The staff were so amused by their foreign guests that we received phone calls starting at 8am to see if we needed anything. Lisa had tickled the fancy of the hotel receptionist so much that she came up to the room to take a picture of Lisa and touch her face. Then there were the two yes, two curious bell boys who came to the room to deliver, what must have been a very heavy roll of toilet paper. hahaha

This was an amazing place. We enjoyed authentic South India Thalis (traditional lunch) all served on a banana leaf, and eaten by hand. Yum!

There is a huge Hindu temple where they keep elephants for grand religious celebrations. If you want that your son gets a very good job you are welcome to donate large sums of gold so your prayers may be heard. Or, you may also wish to donate an elephant. They are sadly taken from the wild from their mothers and trained from a young age. Wild adults would not tolerate chains. Occasionally an elephant will lose its wits and go nuts. For such intelligent, social and magnificent beasts, their true home is in the wild. I know, I know, the context of millennia of tradition is not lost on me but still, too much context can cloud and issue like a thick smog clouds the lungs.

Lesson 22: Sometimes things are exactly as they appear.

On Sunday the town exploded with weddings. There was so many beautiful people and things to see here. Music around the temple at night, dancing, groups of pilgrams. We said wow a hundred times a day.

Now for the most endearing things in India:

Endless, endless, endless, endless, amounts of character.
Amazing birds with elaborate calls.
The food.
Street stalls.
Cool insects.
A city of lights on the ocean from small fishing boats, all night long.
Shiny sweets, shiny women, shiny shrines.
Chai chai and more chai.
The morning chorus breaking through the ubiquitous crows.
Magnum PI moustaches.
Night-time bat watching. Small bats…HUGE bats.
Men holding hands in friendship.
Turquoise ocean.
Big huge smiles
Being giggled at.
Unabashed starring.
The kindness of the people.
Their easy going attitude, nothing is a problem, even the traffic doesn’t stress them out!
Learning to eat with our hands.
Learning to use water instead of TP.
Longis (south indian clothing worn by men)

Moments we could have done without:

Fresh dead dogs on the road in the morning.
Rotting dead dogs on the road in the afternoon.
The morning chorus of horking.
Being laughed at.
A huge dead bat electrocuted on the wires.
People who take a dump directly into the ocean.
People who litter directly into the ocean.
Explaining why Lisa’s hair is short, and yes, she is female.
Not holding hands in public.
Sharks being served at tourist restaurants. (endangered)

Most gagable moment:
Going to the post office, the man behind the counter does a farmers nose blow on the floor of the office, turns back to serve the gagging Lisa who swifty leaves the office asking Michelle to complete the transaction.

As soon as Lisa was well enough we moved on from Guruvayur. From there we’ve cycled over 100kms on a mostly rural ride, hitting the town of Thirur for one stinky night, then on to Calicut, a busy, relentlessly honking, smoggy city. The vibe has changed somewhat from the chill religious tones of Guruvayur and further south. Our presence through this stretch has been met with more flabbergasted jaw-dropping intrusive stares rather then the mostly kindly curious looks we’ve been used to so far. There are still very few foreigners here. Lisa did have to give one man a loud talk down and a hard whack on the shoulder for being inappropriate towards her. No, not all western women are like that.

And finally it was my turn to get sick. Giving into the temptation of butter chicken, I’ve learned my lesson too stay away from meat in India. After 4 days of sickness, we were happy for the satellite TV in the room, and we’ll be happy to get out of here.

Tomorrow we leave by car for Wayanard Wildlife Sanctuary (too far to cycle with no stops) in search of breathable air and wild elephants, the only kind we’ll give money to see.

If you've liked the photos so far, most of them are Lisa's doing!

Thanks for writing everyone!

Hi-tailing it,
Michelle and Lisa

(P.S. Tracy, yes we should have brought that extra tool, I broke a spoke on my back wheel! ha ha...we'll find someone to fix it, do you fancy flying out?)

2009-01-27T22:11:00.000-08:00

We stayed 5 days in Kovalam, a beach town fabled once as a pristine destination for hippies in the 70’s. Now more developed and touristy, the relentless sellors really do ruin the atmosphere when your chillin’ at the beach. The beauty of this place lives in contrast, past and present meet and cultures shake hands.

Two days of riding brought us to next beach, Varkala, where we stayed a week. It has such a beautiful beach which the police keep most annoying beach vendors away, and we were able to find our peace. We slooowwwweeedddd dooowwwnnn considerably and sunk into the beeacchhhh life, dude. The heat of the sand in the afternoon made us stupid and sunburnt; so we took to siestas and early morning swims. Covering up in the sun is a necessity, now I know why the head dress started.

You know your relaxed when you have the time to separate the colours of the sand grains.

We met some really nice travellers from Switzerland with whom we shared a few meals. Its nice to meet people on a similar cultural level and not have to pretend we have husbands or that we are Buddhists! Not just that, they were a refreshing couple who see more to life than work.

These beaches are a gentle mix of all. The early mornings have yoga practitioners greeting the day, traditional fishermen returning from their all-night vigil and groups of Indians starting the day off right with religious rituals and prayer. The afternoon sees relatively naked tourists baking in the sun, there lounge chairs and umbrellas are slowly surrounded by fishing nets laid out to dry. The evening bring Indian families for an evening stroll or swim. The boys play in jovial groups and the women wade in fully clothed. We were sad to leave.

Lisa got knocked off her bike on a very small road in the beach town of Varkala…some &#*$ing people! Arg. She was fine, but after a very frustrating day it was the icing on the camels back.

Since Varkala the craziness of the roads have somewhat calmed. We are finding that the 4-lane highway is our best bet as it has at least a 2-foot shoulder. The passing lanes are a very very good thing for bus drivers with something to prove! We’ve learned how to ride here and how to cope. This involves and ear plug in my traffic-side ear, a loud bell and an air filter. Happily we plug along, now very much enjoying our rides. Honk if your Indian!

We hopped a 8 hour ferry up the back water canals of Kerala to bring us to Alleppey.

It was a gorgeous ride, not without its usual realities. The canals are both the sewer system and the swimming pool. The many jellyfish spoke of polluted waters and any far off view is hazy. We were transported to a time were modernity hadn’t made its ugly footprints.

With some of the most biodiversity in the world India has a lot to loose and a lot to save. Cool encounters so far: Kingfisher, big jellyfish, garden spider.

Another 60kms brings us to Fort Cochin. We found a homestay in a gorgeous house that is spotless and friendly. It even has children to amuse Lisa! Lisa worked on the parents so we could take them swimming for the first time ever! They were ecstatic and so were we.

One day, playing together in the rickety park Lisa noticed a boy around two, playing alone. We brought the police who laughed and explained he was a gypsy street child and not from this province, so there was nothing to do. Eventually a girl came claiming to me his sister though not knowing his name. The child ran off…across the road. It always feels better at least to try. Humph.
The family is lovely, besides the cousin who is 13, works all day and sleeps under the kitchen counter and certain belief-systems we just can’t jive with…we’ve had an amazing time with them so far. We feel at home, have many conversations, share stories and play with the kids. Last night they treated us to authentic toddy (fermented coconut) and a delicious meal.

We took in a show of Kathikali dance, the traditional dance of this province Kerala.

Through all our amazing experiences so far, we now feel adjusted and comfortable in India. It’s a spiritual place, and that’s adsorbing into us. It’s a strong calm in a place that only appears chaotic a first.

Much to the children’s delight we’ll go swimming again today for the second time. Dad has promised to take them once a week now and try to leave the fear of his drowned brother behind.

Tomorrow we head off for an 80km ride up the coast.

We hope that you are all keeping well...

Making waves in India,
Michelle and Lisa

Trains, bikes and toilets.

2009-01-11T05:12:00.001-08:00

The train ride to Kanyakumari can be described in extremes. It was both a testing experience and a enlightening one. It tested our tolerance levels for the lack of basic hygiene, all the while gifting us with the most open and generous company. We stayed for two nights in a sleeper class train car which would have been perfectly fine for a shorter journey. Each car is divided in to sections of seats which are folded down into 8 vinyl covered beds in the evening. There, as most places we’ve been so far, was no place for garbage which as we found out was to be either chucked out the window or put down the hole between the cars. The environmentalist in both of us screamed a strong catholic-like guilt as we were left with little choice but the best option: to put it down the hole, at a station where it might get cleaned up. As you can imagine the country side is riddled in garbage piles, some of which are burned which add a lovely toxic smell to the afternoon breeze.

There was an relentless number of passengers coming on and off throughout our trip. One family of 10 that stayed with us for our first night were a lovely matriarchy, with grandma at the lead. The women felt our skin, smiled, giggled and we knew they spoke about us often. Lisa made fast friends with the 4 kids. She has an amazing ability to find joy in children and adults alike, using an honest and genuine smile and greeting. Lisa taught the kids tic-tac-toe, thumb war and others. The only common language was Fun.

Steetal a twenty year-old shared her blanket in the cold night and due to an over crowded train, ended up sharing my bed as well. They offered us food, enormous smiles and we communicated with each other with more than actions, drawings and no more than 7 English words.

Turns out they were only to able to pay part of their fare and nearly got kicked off the next day before making their pilgrimage to their temple of choice. A long incomprehensible argument ensued and we eventually offered to pay some of their fair. The ticket man gave them (and us) a good deal and they remained on the train. They relentlessly offered to pay us back, but we would not except explaining to grandma that it was pay back for kicking a man off the edge of Lisa’s bed during the night (probably harmlessly so since there was no where else to sit). We enjoyed/endured their presence for most of the next day. Having 14 people who never stopped talking (loudly) crammed in a space for 8 was a wee bit taxing!

Glad to see the back of them, some quieter Krishna pilgrims took their place. So very pleased with us for being generous to that family. Every snack, meal was shared. Every smile immeasurably kind. We were blown away by their kindness, and they were just happy to know they were spreading more good karma. Here's a picture of one the Krishna pilgrams in a spiritual position.

Lesson from India no. 2= The people who have the least are the most generous.

Lesson no. 3= Big smiles and a ‘hello’ will reveal almost any rude-looking stare to be what it really is; harmless curiosity.

After two nights in the train:

-we both stopped visiting the hole-in-the-floor-toilet unless in was absolutely necessary. It was becoming beyond unbearable.

-we both stopped eating due to the overwhelming dirt, mess, and crowdedness, it just became too unappetizing.

-we were completely sick of the relentless precession of food sellers chanting their wears up and down the aisles starting at 530am-even though much of it was delicious and very cheap.

-Lisa got a cold from a ‘docter’ who coughed in her direction for an entire night.

-we swore we’d never do it again

-we swore it was one the best experiences we could have had.

We spent a few nights in Kanyakumari so Lisa could get over her cold. The place was far too religious for us, the Christians starting prayer over a loud speaker at 530am, then the Muslims at 6am and the Krishnas at 630am. We left amongst many stares on our first leg of cycling. A 90km ride became 120km as we weaved in and out of towns because of vague directions towards Kovalum, which every one said, ’yes yes 20kms away‘, for the entire journey. We learned to ask the rickshaw driver’s for accurate mileage.

The ride here was a bit stressful, everything people say about Indian traffic is true. Just when we thought we’d have to change the plan we met 3 cyclists from South Africa who had cycled all the way!!!!! (it took 21 months). They said there are small coastal roads that are not on the map, you just have to ask the village people along the way and keep the ocean on your left. Sounds good to us! There’s even a little ferry we’ll take, to avoid the big roads. Don’t worry we are being safe!

We’ll spend 4 days here, recovering from the ride and our sick stomachs. We will enjoy this touristy place, its many palm trees and exotic birds, get a massage and swim in the ocean, seeking out the least inflated priced places to eat and sleep.

We met a friendly English bloke whose been to India for the past 11 years who helped us plan the next leg of cycling. We’ll head up to Varkala next around 50-60kms away on Jan. 13^th.

Happily our second hotel here seems giant-cockroach free! And we JUST experienced our first black out, which we came prepared for with headlamps. Ha ha ha.

Mumbai-from slums to cell phones

2009-01-02T09:29:00.000-08:00

Where do I start? How about at the beginning. Our first experience was leaving the airport in the cab. We stopped and a crippled man was asking for change, from the slum adjacent the airport (surrounded by a wall of garbage). The police came over and started to whip him with their thin sticks. I asked them to stop, please, this was all I could do, until the man got to his feet and continued to argue with the cops. This picture was taken just before.

We've been in Mumbai, India for five days and its feels like forever. It is a world away. With all of its endless differences, one can still see we are all the same, just in different places, living along-side different cultures-that are slowly converging.

There are 16 million people in this city (half the population of Canada). There are 29,000 people living per square km. 55% of them live in shanty towns or slums. At first it seems insane, by the second day it is something one must except to be reality.

This being said there are many good things happening here, mostly for the middle class-festivals, music, life, fun, family time, environmental action, social action. There are education initiatives for slum children and so on. There are snacks to enjoy on the way home from work at a million different food stalls, there is fresh cane juice, colourful sites, many friends to be had. Even the low class work and go about life finding some happiness its seems. Compared to the very very very poor, they're doing OK. Its all relative.

Its amazing to me how some have claimed a square of pavement as their home, for them, and perhaps 2-3 tiny children. One most lasting vision was the wee baby sleeping in a sheer shall tied between two fence posts. There it will live, or die, amist the stench of the train station and piles of rubbish. This is perhaps the worst off one may be, others have the broader community of the slum and a tin roof and walls.

There is a huge, and I mean HUGE gap between rich and poor, however the overall standard is quite low, and most buildings are crumbling, most streets are dirty and all of the air is polluted. There are so many people, garbage is burned in heeps or left to decay in this city's many crevasses.

Our position in society here is sickening, we are beyond privledged and could probably eat in any hotel were India's most famous bollywood stars might eat.

We visited the Taj Hotel, down the road, to see the tribute the those who passed in the Mumbai bombin gs or "26/11" as the papers call it.

Our first hotel, huge cockroaches and all, was snuggled-in beside Leopold's (another site of recent attacks). There we discovered the picture hanging which covered quite a large bullet-hole, the pillar beside Lisa which had and entry and exit wound, and a few others.

Have I freaked you out yet? The thing is, Mumbai is in mourning, but there is something else this place has shown me. Dispite all the thick smog that hides the oceans beauty, dispute the layer of dirt on the face of the poor and the leaves of the trees, dispite the rats and roaches of the night, dispite murderous extremists...there are 16 million heart beats here, the women still dress up, the smiles are twice as bright, crows still gowk and socialize. Life is in full swing, the fervor and push of life, undenyable. It is hopeful. The pulse is so incredably loud I am awed by the beauty and ugliness of humanity.
- - -

There are a million amazing things to look at every second.
South Indian food is pleasurable and cheap! Lisa is doing very well with the spice! Its mostly vegetarian AND gluten free!!!!
We are fat compared to everyone.
25 degrees to an Indian is cooooooooool weather.
We've spent 2 days sucking in fumes and meeting very interesting cabies to obtain our vietnamese visas-which we'll have to pick up when we get back to mumbai, in 7 weeks anyway! ahhhhhhhhhhh!
We are getting better at haggeling, but we still suck.
We are definelty getting better at crossing the road. ahhhhh!
You don't know traffic.
We don't like closing the curtains before snugging.
We do like noticing there other gay people here who can't hide it very well either.
It must be true, Southern India is more laid back. So far, the level of hassle we get on the street is nothing we can't handle. Cuba was WAY more annoying. Still- apparently -we are drop-dead gourgeous.
Indian clothes are beautiful and comfortable.
sikhs, muslums, hindus and christians all live in this city.
Someone wabbling their head at you is a very good thing. :)

- - -
Tomorrow we take the train to the most southern tip of India. It will take 2 nights to arrive there. After waiting in the hilarious 'foreigners' line up (a.k.a. the people who stick out like a soar thumb stand here line up), for such a long journey we hoped for our own lockable train car, they were sold out due to the holiday season. So we are happily forced to do what we should have in the first place-experience the real India and enjoy the company of such nice people.

From there we will put our bikes back together and get ready to ride baby ride, up the west coast and see how far we can get, physically, mentally and spiritually.

We're loving it.