Angkor What?

I set off at dawn from Prostituteville towards Siem Reap (Translation : Siamese Defeated), the city next to the Temples of Angkor. The roads were pretty hairy and very reminiscent of being in India again. The Cambodians drive big jeeps way too fast. I almost witnessed a young girl get killed when she ran out into the road. Luckily the oncoming car swerved towards me instead. Most Cambodians seem to be very young, which goes some way to explaining the road behaviour, but there aways seems to be a correlation between crap roads and crap driving. I guess the older 'dangerous' citizens were killed off by the Khmer Rouge. 

I arrived at about lunchtime and decided to have a drink in a cafe and decide what to do. I knew that the ancient city of Angkor was pretty big and thought it might be possible to camp somewhere. I set off to have a gander and rode down the main road where I was immediately flagged down by a guy with a walkie talkie. He told me to go back and buy a ticket for $20. Since Angkor covers a huge area there are numerous entrances, Cambodians who live in the area go in and out as they please. Us walking cash machines can't. I decided to nip down some dirt roads and avoid getting a ticket, for now. My GPS has every single dirt track and road in the area on, thus I was able to circumnavigate around him and emerge from the jungle to found some sort of ruins. Another guy with a walkie talkie immediately stopped me. I heard the word 'moto' mentioned by someone on the other side. Bugger, these guys were organised. 

I went back to get a ticket. I could easily afford it, I just enjoy playing KTM hide and seek in the jungle. They took my photo for said ticket. I looked like a crazy renegade who had just emerged from a jungle, exactly the look I had been going for. 

I was then approached by a policeman who told me no big motos in the park or no tourists on motos or something but the jist was that I wasn't allowed in. The locals on their bikes together with an obscene amount of Japanese tourists in huge air-conditioned buses and many many tuk tuks were. I turned on the charm, no success. I honked my squeaky horn - always good for a giggle and guaranteed to crack a smile on all but the most hardened of war vets, no success. I offered to 'buy' a ticket for my bike, no success. I told him my name was Indiana Jones - this held no sway. In the end I agreed to take my bike back to my hotel and go on a tour. 

I lied. 

Once again using the amazing maps on my GPS I rode 100 metres back down the rode, found a dirt track and went around the ticket office and the policeman. They should not underestimate the power of a KTM with a Garmin.

I was now able to explore at my leisure, sort of. I decided to go to Angkor Wat first (the big famous one where I have been reliably informed that they filmed streetfighter or Mortal Combat or some sort of 90's movie based on a video game - thanks Roger!) At the checkpoint where they check your tickets I was shown somewhere to park. I would then have to walk about 1 km with lots of bike gear on, leaving my loaded bike there. I decided that I was too lazy to do such a thing and also wanted a photo of my bike in front of the temple so I sweet talked the gatekeeper into letting me go further - like the locals are allowed to do. After 20 minutes I was getting nowhere so ignored him and rode on anyway.

Angkor Wat loomed through the jungle. Words cannot do it justice. I parked my bike round the other side and took a few photos, all the while expecting police to turn up and drag me away. They didn't.

I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring small jungle tracks. Most of the gatekeepers didn't care that I was visiting and stood in awe of the bike. I was asked a million times where I came from and how much it cost but unlike India I managed to maintain a cheery face.

Japanese tourists asked if I was riding a Honda or a Yamaha. None had never heard of KTM. I think they were a bit dissapointed.

Exploring Angkor was possibly one of the best days ive had this trip. Even though I didn't really go into any of the ruins, just discovering them on the bike (and avoiding the police) was exciting enough. 

Shortly after sunset I gave up on the idea of camping and was in dire need of a cold shower so I headed back into town and found a nice guesthouse. Feeling hungry I went to the restaurant and after browsing the menu asked whether 'Crispy Ant Bruschetta's' were what I thought they were. They were. I just hoped that they were all dead as I munched them.

The next day I decided to explore the temples a bit more intimately, leaving all my luggage back at the hotel so nothing could get nicked. At the ticket office I met 'PC no big noisy KTM's'. I ignored him this time and rode around anyway. The day wasn't as exciting as the previous where things were brand new, but I did wonder around inside some of the temples. Sadly I didn't get to go into the big Angkor Wat since there were lots of policemen there who just kept telling me to go away, but after a few hours I got bored of looking at ancient piles of bricks so headed back to the guesthouse about lunchtime.

I took some small dirt tracks back where I encountered my first collision of the trip. Two cows were having a scrap at the side of the road and for some reason I just rode past intrigued, until one decided to bolt across the road in front of me. I clipped his arse and fell off, not going too fast though. Stupid bovine, stupid me.

My plan was to set off early the next day back into Thailand then down to Ko Chang where I could meet up with George and Morgan again for New Years.

It was a straight road to the border, about 160km. There were lots of policemen stood along the road which I thought was strange. Maybe they were trying to stop me from escaping. It was not long before I hit a road block. The king is visiting until 11am someone explained. Bugger, a 3 hour wait. Once again Garmin came to the rescue and showed a 40km detour along some back roads. I set off down some rubbish tracks through tiny villages. 1 1/2 hours later and I emerged back onto the main road, just behind the opposite road block where people were waiting looking rather frustrated. I waved at the policemen and set off again to the border.

I was successfully stamped out of Cambodia and didn't bother going to Cambdoian customs. I just rode straight into Thailand where I was stopped at a checkpoint. The guys here were ridiculously friendly, arranging the insurance that I was supposed to have for £5 for 3 months and sorting out the required import docs. I was there probably 2 hours and they gave me bottles of water and some food.

Once legally back in Thailand, this time only with a 15day visa I set off south to Ko Chang. I arrived at the ferry terminal as the sun was setting, thinking that I might have missed the last ferry, luckily I hadn't. I found the huts George and Morgan were staying in together with Elvis, another KTM rider who I met back in India and a couple from Europe who have driven their 4x4 here through Kazakhstan, Mongolia and China.

Anyway we got drunk that night and since there were no more rooms available I kipped in Morgan's hammock. Here there are the usual things to do, beaches to lie on, beer to drink, food to eat. I don't feel as restless as I did in Laos either, I could quite happily do nothing all day here.

Christmas in Cambodia

Don Det is a curious island. The locals have built some fantastic little wooden bungalows for the tourists, yet are still determined to live in half finished shacks with their entire family. They do all have satelite tv stolen from Thailand though!

Don Det is now home to the Australian Baker. He runs a bakery. The slogan is 'anything can happen at the bakery'. His banana and chocolate donuts and Foccacia bread have earnt him the status of 'the devil' from me. We tried to enquire how he ended up baking donuts on an island in the middle of the Mekong. He replied that it was a long story. I like to think that he was either abducted by aliens or woke up in the bakery after a stag party and decided to stay. Maybe we will never know.

I spent my time on Don Det dossing in a hammock and exploring the island with the Fairy girl from Brighton. Once Carlos left I had the largest vehicle there but it's healthier and a bit more fun to explore on one of the many bicycles for hire. I met a guy from the UK who had the idea of getting a canoe and powering up the Mekong. I was tempted to sell my bike and attempt it. Turns out its not possible due to the numerous waterfalls which cause obstructions.

Since there were quite a few Europeans on the island, Christmas was celerated on the 24th. The Australian had managed to get hold of a goat with the plan of a spit roast. The goat must have been privy to these plans and promtly escaped. The locals brought two more goats which were duly slaughtered and eaten.

Some Israelis decided to celebrate Christmas by roasting a Pig on a BBQ on the beach. The Irony was lost on a lot of people.

After 3 days of doing not very much and eating donuts at every opportunity I decided to leave. It happened to be Christmas day. My plan was to cross the border into Cambodia, get a ferry across the Mekong, then get lost in the Jungle on my way to Siem Reap.

The border was pretty straight forwards. Laos customs just stamped my carnet without looking at my bike then waved me over the border. On the Cambodian side I had to have a health-check under an umbrella at the side of the road before being allowed any further. The doctor instructed me to 'stabilise my temperature' before poking a thermometer in my ear. Despite my sweating in the sun it seemed to be stable enough and I was declared pig/swine/Sars flu free. He then demanded $1US for his efforts. I paid because I've never had a private health-check before and thought it would look good on my CV.

I then got to go and get my Cambodian visa. Whislt waiting I was sent to customs. I asked nicely if I could please bring my motorbike in. The official in a large armchair asked to see my Carnet, looked a bit confused, then handed it back and said yes. Best customs official in the world.

Once I had my visa I needed to get it stamped. I had to pay 1$US for this which I did not have since I had given all my short change to the doctor and the guys handing out visas. They didnt seem fussed and stamped anyway. This was corruption in its laziest form.

30 minutes after turning up and I was free to do a little wheelie and zip down into Cambodia.

At the first city I found petrol but no ferry as promised. I rode up and down the bank of the Mekong trying to find it with no joy. I then decided to head back to the main road so took a gravel path that eventually became a very small sand track. It went on for 10km back to the main road. There was lots of sand and I managed to perfect riding sideways whilst my legs flailed uselessly. The guy who was following me on his scooter with his 80 year old mother on the back must have been impressed.

Upon finding the highway I rode about 400km till I got here. Some small town next to the Mekong. It feels homely because there are lots of old Germans and Prostitutes. It seems to be a good combination in South East Asia.

Anyway I'm sat in a rather nice Cafe covered in moths and have just had a nice steak and numerous beers. Maybe it was a good thing I couldn't find the ferry and get lost in the Jungle, then again, maybe not.

Merry Christmas.

Lounging in Laos

The Thai side of the border was very easy considering how long it had taken us to get our bikes in. They just stamped us out and waved us across 'Friendship Bridge 2' across the Mekong. In Laos we had to buy visas for $35US then figure out how to get our bikes in. We had none of the paperwork they were expecting, so had to speak to the chief of customs who agreed that we should use our Carnet de Passages. His minions didn't seem to fully comprehend his instructions and had no idea what to do. We got pretty frustrated with them until one of them walked past with a huge bag of donuts. We quickly bought them all and sat scoffing whilst the customs guys looked confused. Once we were full of sugar and feeling better we managed to get them to do what they had to do and could ride off into Laos.

We set off to the capital, Vientiene, about 20km away, to decide whether we should stay there or keep going. The city was pretty relaxed and felt like a communist version of Paris spread out along the Mekong. We had a coffee in a quaint cafe and decided to push on. The road was calling.

The main highway through Laos is in reasonably good condition, although chickens, goats, cows and dogs make it pretty interesting sometimes. We stopped at a small shop in a village for a drink. About 30 kids suddenly appeared and sat watching and giggling. If they had sung it would have been like the Sound of Music. An old drunk man kept pestering us about the bikes and giggling then taking photos with his cameraphone. A man with no hands turned up and I got Carlos to roll him a cigarette. The message was clear though, with all the unexploded bombs thanks to the American secret war of the 70's there would be no offroading, berry picking or sneaky wees in the bush here or in Cambodia. Thankyou America for ruining yet another country.

We stopped in a gueshouse a little further down the road and tried to get to the Mekong to take a photo of the beautiful sunset over the river. We failed and I ended up with a rather nice photo of the sunset down the road. We found an ATM where Carlos gave me some money back in repayment of what I had leant him. He gave me 150,000 Kip. I thought this was equivalent to about 180 Euros. It turned out to be about 18 Euros. Sneaky Spanish! 

The next day we rode 561km, crossing half of Laos. The road followed the Mekong, but from a distance so it was not always visible. The scenery was very reminiscent of when I was last in Northern Australia, I guess theyre at the same Lattitude. We stopped that night in Pakse, a small town next to the Thai border, and went out for some food. Laos is so laid back and relaxed compared to Thailand that we had to go and find the waiter, I think he was sleeping. I orderred a burger, when it came I ate it in 3 bites. It was tiny. Stupid French influence, although I quite like the baguettes everywhere and amazing pastries!

Since we had crossed Laos in 2 days straight, I decided to go to the 4000 Islands, essentially a cluster of islands in the middle of the Mekong on the Laos / Cambodian border. We went to the largest island, Don Khong (Donkey Kong) aboard a small ferry that we had to haggle for a decent price. The ferry was about 50 years old and powered by a smaller boat strapped to the side. It sat at a funny angle in the water.

Carlos is not impressed with the ferry.

The island was about 18km long and 5km wide. We found a guesthouse and a Fairy girl from Brighton who plays the Eucalaylie. We all rode across the island to watch the sunset on the opposite shore. Curious young kind surrounded our bikes. The next day I wanted to visit the next islands along which were smaller and more touristy with the view of possibly spending Christmas there. We got the ferry back to the mainland and set off to first find an ATM. That took several hours. My GPS claimed there was an ATM in the middle of a field. I need to stop following the bloody thing.

Eventually, after getting enough money, we tried to get across to the island, Don Det. There was no big ferry this time, and we had to ride up and down the shore trying to find a small boat suitable for our bikes. What we found was essentially two canoes strapped together with decking across the top and an outboard motor on a stick. Perfect. Again we haggled the price down a bit to about 10 Euros for 2 bikes and rode up a plank where we could perch on the deck.

Onboard, eventually.

The landing beach.

On the other side of the waterway we were deposited on a beach. It felt a bit like Saving Private Ryan, only confused tourist looked down from the overlooking cafes and wondered who the idiots were.  The sidestand on my bike almost gave way when we were getting Carlos' bike off. Luckily none of us ended up in the Mekong.

I'm currently staying in a small hut occupied by a bed, a mosquito net and a light bulb together with numerous insects, frogs and lizards. There is a hammock on the front porch and i'm paying about 2 Euros a night. I've decided to spend Christmas here rather than race across Cambodia. I'll try my hand at this relaxing lark, I'm not very good at it. There are a lot of gap year guys here looking to 'find themselves'. They spend the day drinking beer and lazing in tubes in the Mekong. I woke up early to see Carlos off as he races South then spent my day repairing a puncture.

After Christmas I want to ride through Cambodia to Siem Riep, or Angkor Wat, the massive abandoned ancient city. I've been told of a dirt track that goes practically all the way there through the jungle. It took 2 guys on a moto taxi 10 hours. Should be easy for a KTM.

Oh, and Merry Christmas.

Some Mothers Do Have Em'

From Pai we completed the Mae Hong Son Loop. I'm not really very good at describing roads, all that I can say is that it was like a 1000km racetrack. My tyres were once again rounded when we completed it. The last night of the loop we stopped in a very nice guesthouse next to a river. There was limited parking space so I was forced to park in a bush. The next morning I had a small colony of giant red ants who had decided to make my radiator home.

We nipped back to Chiang Mai for one night so that we could plan our next step. We both wanted to spend Christmas somewhere nice, and since Carlos didn't have much time, yet still wanted to visit Laos and Cambodia, we decided to try to get to a beach in Southern Cambodia.

We set off East towards one of the border crossings with Laos through some fantastic mountain scenery down some very good small roads. Even the worse roads in Thailand are better than the best roads in India. They were only bad because they were being made into new roads and had a perfectly flat loose gravel covering. Feeling confident, I managed to drift a couple of times.

As it was getting dark we were in the middle of nowhere. Something flew out of a bush and hit me on my knee. I think it was a bird or a bat. We soon found a small town. There were no hotels but a grass common ground in front of a temple with a very randy dog where I asked a monk whether it would be ok to camp. It was, and we rode a couple of hundred metres to a restaurant to find some food. Since no one spoke English, and my Thai is limited to 'hello', 'thankyou', 'chicken' and 'pad thai', we had little choice in what was given to us - it turned out to be some rather nice instant noodles with fresh chicken and bok choy - delicious.

Afterwards we set off back the 200 metres to our camping ground. For some reason, Carlos decided to instigate colonial rules and rode on the wrong side of the road - to date he still doesn't know why. The oncoming truck that he collided with didn't agree. Thankfully they were not going too fast. Damage to the truck included a rather nice dent in the middle of the bumper. Carlos' mudguard was destroyed and his forks were twisted. We also found later that one of his brake disks seems to be a little out. The problem now was how to handle the tiny angry wife of the truck driver. Since we did not have insurance (3rd Party Insurance is mandatory in Thailand, but no one will insure a non Thai registered bike - Catch 22!) we could either bluff it using our European cover, or pay up. Lots of people turned up to watch this spectacle and the word 'Fallang' was mentioned many times. Thankfully a lady who spoke very good english was amongst them who informed us that they wanted 150,000 Baht for the damage. This equated to about 3000Euros. Yikes! After much further converstation it turned out there had been an error in translation and the sum was 15,000 Baht - 300 Euros, Better. I leant Carlos some money meaning he could avoid being lynched or a having to spend night in a police cell. I drafted up a piece of paper saying that the damage had been paid for and the matter was now closed and had both parties and a witness sign it - I felt like a UN amabassador.

We pushed Carlos' bike to the temple grounds and set to work making it roadworthy. After a good nights sleep, punctuated by various dog fights, we finished the work and could set off. We soon reached the Mekong and found two border crossings into Laos we weren't expecting. One was a brand new bridge not listed in Lonely Planet, the other was just a shallow river crossing. On the Thai side people sat in small shops selling every convenience imaginable. On the Laos side a woman washed her families underpants in the river.

The Unofficial road in Laos.

Whilst passing through a small village further down the road, I spotted a rather nice looking convenience shop and knowing how much Carlos likes to hang around drinking cola and smoking, decided to have a puncture on my front tyre. I repaired it in record time and once again we set off.

A little further down the road and at approximately 80kph and the master link on my chain decided it had had enough. The first I knew of this was when my engine cut and everything suddenly went silent... I knew what had happened and expected to slowly drift to a stop, instead things got interesting rather quickly. The chain locked up my back wheel and I came to a rather abrupt, yet stylish sideways skidding stop. Amazingly I had managed to stay upright so I turned to grin at Carlos. We dismounted to inspect the damage. Indeed the master link had dissapeared and a short search yielded no result so we made the decision to tow my bike with Carlos' about 1km back down the road to find a mechanic. My front tyre had also sprung another leak to make things interesting - I think the chain might have flicked forwards to do that.

The other way to stop whilst doing 80kph.

At the mechanics and they immediately knew what to do, cutting a link out and using one of the existing pins to fix the chain, only problem now was that it was too tight, so we ground the slot on the swing arm to allow the wheel to sit further forwards. Problem solved. I also got them to properly patch my tyres since I had had enough for one day. Total cost of work, about 4 Euros.

Once again we tried our luck at getting to the Laos border and made it to Nong Kai shortly after dark, a town seemingly exclusively populated with prostitutes and old Germans. We would head across the border the next day.

I am now in Laos and can't be bothered typing up much more so will update with further details of my adventures at a later date.

The Times They Are A Changin

I've just registered www.ktmdunk.co.uk, it will be easier to tell people that than the blogspot caffuffle, plus I can get stickers for the bike. I plan to just link it to here, so nothing should really change much. Just thought I'ld let you know.

Burning Japs, Tiger Brothels, Crazy Finns and Thai Biker Gangs - Thailand in a nutshell

So, we left Bangkok late one afternoon, when I can't remember, maybe a week ago. We headed out of the city on one of the highways we weren't allowed on but all the police were elsewhere. Once out of Bangkok, things quickly became more rural and we found some small tarmaced roads through the countryside. There are literally millions of small lanes around Thailand, all of them in good condition. You could spend weeks lost on them since they don't appear on any map or GPS.

We were heading to Kanchanaburi and the infamous 'Death Railway Bridge', an arrived shortly after it got dark, partly due to getting lost and partly because we keep setting off too late. The main street was full of Expat bars and hotels. We found somewhere to eat then a room and I went for a walk to take a photo of the bridge by night. I was unaware that for a week or two at the end of November/ early December, they have a big sound light and firework show. I turned up just as it had started and was rather reluctant to pay the 100B entry fee not knowing what was going on since everything was in Thai. I eventually succumbed and was show to a seat. The show was extravagant to say the least. Although I didn't have a clue what was being said, I gathered it told the story of the building of the bridge with lasers, lights and people marching up and down dressed as Japanese soldiers. At the end of the show a train filled with said soldiers rolled over the bridge before the finale - the destruction. There were fireworks, explosions, boats going up and down the river, men running around shooting guns then setting themselves on fire and throwing themselves into the water. It was all very American. I was rather glad to have seen it, but disappointed that after the show they lit the bloody thing up like Blackpool tower. Some of the softer lighting they used during the show would have been so much more appropriate.

The next morning we loaded up the bikes and headed on down to catch a glimpse during the day. I wandered along the rickety tracks on the bridge with other tourists. Suddenly a train whistled and we all had to dive for cover in one of the alcoves on the bridge whilst it came over. There was no railing and a rather long drop. Health and safety nuts would love it.

Back at the bike and random Thai tourists would come up to take a photo of themselves with my tigers. At one point I was caught by a family of 6 who all wanted an individual photo of me with their 6 individual cameras. None of them seemed to care who I was.

Our plan was to set off North to Chiang Mai, since Carlos does not have as much time as me and we were enjoying riding together. Once again we had set off late so were caught out at dusk once again a bit far from our destination of Tak. We decided to head to a nearby campsite in my Gps. 30 minutes later and we were in the middle of a jungle, in the dark, covered in mosquitos. We unanimously decided that it would probably be unwise to camp here and pressed on to a nearby city where we found a cheap room in a very nice wooden hotel. We even got a complimentary welcome pack, including the usual towel, complimentary soap, water, tea, coffee, noodles and .... complimentary condom... maybe we stayed in the wrong type of hotel.

We set off the next day to Chiang Mai, at first cruising on the highway. It's great to be able to travel at a decent speed without the fear of cows, monkeys, rickshaws and lorries hurling themselves at you. Despite what some people say, I find Thai drivers extremely courteous, especially when it comes to motorbikes. We stopped at a couple of petrol stations and 7-11's on the way. The girls who worked there giggled and waved at us. With all the conveniences, Thailand is a bit like America, but more friendly and less obese.

On the way to Chiang Mai we stumbles across Road 106. The previous video should suffice to elaborate. Carlos also created one, it should be over at www.sinewan.com. I'll link it when it appears.

In Chiang Mai we met up with Viviana, who has been stalking Carlos since Rishikesh in India. We went to the night food market, perched atop a rickshaw, not because the rickshaw was full, just because we wanted to. Every type of food imaginable was available at the market whilst a lone girl on a stage danced to some tradional music. Everyone ignored her. Later, kareoke started on the stage. Viviana and I sang New York New York to a not very enthusiastic Thai crowd.

The next day we decided to head off to, what I can only describe as, a Tiger Brothel. Essentially, the more you pay, the younger the tiger that you can pose with. Yes! You actually are able to pet and pose IN THE SAME CAGE as these man eating beasts. Most of us were apprehensive at first. I was, especially since I had spent 3 days in the jungle in India trying to spot a wild beast and knowing that a tiger can never really be tame. They are trained from birth not to 'play' with humans, but playing (gouging with their razor sharp claws) with each other is ok. It's a bit like Jurrasic Park with all the electric fences. At one point whilst we were in the cage, one of the 140kg adult tigers became rather engrossed in a 2 year old blonde boy on the other side of a fence. I've never seen an animals face just scream 'I WANT TO EAT YOU' before!

Although it was a fantastic experience, I'm still not fully convinced that it's right.

The next day Carlos and I went off on a little bike ride to the Phu Ping temple. I giggled because its pronounced Pooping. I enjoyed asking for directions.

We continued onwards since the GPS showed that the road eventually became a dirt track and continued in a small loop. We passed through jungle villages on a very steep track through the mountains. We met up with some mountain bikers who were rather surprised to see a KTM and Honda Varadero up there, let alone that we had brought them from Europe.

The track eventually led to a fantastic lake/reservoir with little huts on either side. Since we had essentially snuck in the back way we didn't have to pay the 20B entrance fee as I found out the next day. We had some food and napped in a hut. Carlos said it would have been extremely romantic if I wasnt there.

The night before my birthday we went out to celebrate. We became a rather mixed group from numerous nationalities and at midnight I had happy birthday sung in English, German, Italian, Thai and, my personal favourite, a personal rendition with a microphone in Finnish, by a guy who kept fishing cans of beer out of his rucksack all night and talking loudly about mushrooms. Most of the time we had no idea what he was saying but it kept us amused.

The next eve was a big biker meet in Chiang Mai so we popped along to have a look. There were mainly millions of Harleys there - the Thais love em. There was live music and lots of drinking. We were invited to sit with a biker group from Southern Thailand who we bumped into on the road the other day. They were fantastic hosts and we had a great time, especially since they were really interested in seeing the Helmet Cam videos from offroading, mainly because I stacked the bike 3 times.

Despite there only being 2 KTM's at the meet, mine and a 590 supermoto, I managed to find a stall that sold KTM T-shirts.

It was a great night. The live bands were apparently very famous. Later in the night a girl came over to our table and posed for pictures with everyone. We asked each other whether she was famous. She replied to us, in perfect English with and Australian accent, that yes, she was pretty famous around here, then stormed off. We still don't know who she was.

We are now in Pai. The first stop around the Mae Hong Son loop. 1000 odd km of perfect tarmac with 1800 odd twists and turns on it. Who ever counted them had nothing better to do. The road is fantastic, possibly better than anything the alps has to offer. Now I need breakfast so Adios!