Tag Archives: bad roads

Day 218 – Distances

Pretty landscape on the first stretch

Pretty landscape on the first stretch

The only downside of wanting to see the caves of Vieng Xai was that we now were in the far eastern regions of Laos, nearly in Vietnam, while our preferred border crossing back into Thailand is on the far western edge. A lot of distance needs to be covered so we thought we should start on it today. With a 320km chunk. On the bad Laotian roads.

Flo and I actually thought we wouldn’t be able to make it as we left Sam Neua too late. Our communication played up again and we had to figure out what’s wrong, find a place that sells cables and buy a replacement before leaving. However, the cable was crucial to being able to listen to an audio book so the time was well spent.

Picture I snatched when the ladies weren't looking

Picture I snatched when the ladies weren’t looking

Going back through the weaver’s village, we, of course, didn’t see nearly as many women weaving as on the way in. I still tried to snatch a picture but the ladies weren’t that keen to be photographed.

While the scenery was stunning, the road was a disaster. Big patches were missing, reminding us again of Timor-Leste. Riding was hard work rather than a pleasant activity. So really, we just kept going the whole morning. At some point, the road got better again. As we stopped for lunch, the GPS told us that Nong Khiaw is 160km away. Somehow, despite our late start, we had managed to ride half of the distance before lunch. Thus, we might actually reach Nong Khiew…though probably late in the day.

These looked fascinating

These looked fascinating

Just keep riding, just keep riding…at 4.30pm we arrived in the tiny town of Nong Khiew which, to our eyes, was filled to burst with white tourists. The town’s setting on a river with steep cliffs to either side is spectacular but we were just through with this day.

Amazing Indian food saved us from an empty stomach, even if we had to wait for it for a long time, before we snobed the views again to go back into our room to collapse.

Day 208 – Vang Vieng

Croissants with butter and jam

Croissants with butter and jam

Again, having only a 150km stretch to ride today, we decided to have breakfast at the fancy French bakery. Pain of chocolate (pain au chocolate) is just my favourite way to start the day. Again, it was delicious. We were happy now to leave Vientiane behind which did turn out to be a sleepy little town.

150km north of the capital is the small town of Vang Vieng. In earlier days, it was a party-haven for young travellers wanting to tube down the river while being high, but three years ago the party scene was shut down. Nowadays, outdoor activities such as kayaking, tubing and rock climbing are the center of tourism here.

An example of the red dirt colouring everything

An example of the red dirt colouring everything

The road to Vang Vieng turned out to be the worst in quite a while. Giant potholes interchanged with missing stretches of road. It reminded us of Timor-Leste, to be honest. Thus, it took us longer than expected. Unfortunately, there was also no nice space to stop and take a break from the taxing ride as we were pretty much walled in by trees and bushes that had taken on the colour of the dirt. Riding in the clouds of cars and trucks was also not that much fun.

Nice and refreshing

Nice and refreshing

We finally stopped on a bridge for a rehydration break as the view from up here was refreshing after all the red. Nothing to linger on too long though which meant that we arrived at our destination before lunch time. This early, we even got a room at Pan’s Place, one of the popular hostels in town. Since the cafe and our room looked nice, we decided to book two night from the get go.

The prices at our hostel’s café looked reasonable so we had lunch right here and then in form of Western food. While waiting on the burger and cheese-garlic-baguette, two other Germans sat down at our table. They had seen us arrive on the Transalp and were keen to talk, one motorcyclist to another.

Rather worrying wooden bridge

Rather worrying wooden bridge

Being in a slight food coma after lunch, it took decisive action to get out of our room once more and actually DO something with our time in Vang Vieng. The Lonely Planet recommends a tiny loop of about 26km which is short enough that many attempted it on a bicycle. We, however, took Rocinante out for a spin enjoying the dirt roads through mountainous scenery rather than the many waterfall and cave stops. And what beautiful scenery it was! We took 1 ½ hours for the 26km to take it all in, take many photos including Flo riding on the dirt roads and wave to all the locals we met.

Last bit of motorbike epicness for the day

Last bit of motorbike epicness for the day

At one moment, a lady working in a rice field actually smiled at us and waved and I wish I could have taken a picture of this moment but some things are too fleeting to grab on camera.

Very happy that we actually went on this loop, we arrived back at the hostel to plan tomorrow.

 

 

Day 81 – Jaco the ripper

Flo was up for the sunrise

Flo was up for the sunrise

It was time to dare. We were warned about this road, but no one can really tell you what you can ride in the end. So we decided to lighten our bike and give it a try, ready to stop or turn around if necessary. It turns out, we could have thought this through a lot better, but so is life.

After we pimped our included breakfast of canned butter and buns with some of our jam we felt ready to go. The caretakers of the mansion turned hotel were nice enough to allow us to store our gear in their living room and just with the two of us and a backpack, we felt as prepared as we could have been.

This is where we stopped. The track only got worse and we didn't wanna push it too much. Hiking along, we realized that we had stopped just in the right moment

This is where we stopped. The track only got worse and we didn’t wanna push it too much. Hiking along, we realized that we had stopped just in the right moment

The trip was downhill for as much of the 8 km trip as we managed to get down. The road was bad, fist sized rocks buried in dusty silt on a 20 degree angle. But the real deal breaker was when the road stared going a bit uphill again from a lower part of Tutuala maybe 2 km in: The bed of a mountain stream looks as much like a road as this. We made the call, asked a family to park our bike there and walk down. We forgot to take anything to secure our gear, so we took a leap of faith in them (nothing has been touched even 7 hrs later). Further, we left our hiking shoes with the rest of the gear, so we started walking in motorcycle boots …

It took us two and a half hours to get all the way down from the plateau to the water. The decision to leave the bike was definitively the right one. The “road” is for Hilluxs and trail bikes, or one could smash a local 125 with no care for tomorrow down there. What did we find at the end of the world? Three more Germans, waiting on the fishermen to be ferried over as well …

Knowing that the way we left our things would make it necessary to get out again today (estimated 3 hrs hike), we tried to communicate to the fisherman that we wanted to get picked up again by 1pm. This was made harder by the others who wanted to stay all day. Needs must, a $10 return ride in a fishermen’s boat is the only way to get to and from the uninhabited island.

That looks like a postcard

That looks like a postcard

Ah, so you may ask why do all that? Well, Jaco has the most beautiful beach I have been on in my life. And we had to share it with mere 3 other humans, which could be considered bad luck on a weekday. Plus, the marine life around here is supposed to be stunning as well – which was a bit hampered by our lack of gear. We got to borrow one set in the end and got to chase big fish in the pristine aquamarine water.

Our pick up came in the end, but maybe ¾ of an hour later than we would have hoped for, leaving us waiting desperate for shade on the beach. We used Nina’s sarong for some cover, which turned out to be a life saver.

Back on Timor proper we found a nun awaiting the return of her volunteers from the island. They had a ride, but she was unsure when they would go back, so we bit the bullet and started walking again – no lunch, one banana and 1.2 litres of water from the generous fishermen between us. Not the best of prerequisites for a 6 km hike climbing about 800m …

Hitching a ride on the back of a truck. By this point, Flo already realized how sun burnt he is

Hitching a ride on the back of a truck. By this point, Flo already realized how sun burnt he is

I started showing signs of a bad sunburn on my arms and legs, even though we used 30+ sunscreen at regular intervals. Only later that day I realised that this is another known side effect of the doxycycline we are using as malaria prophylaxis. I therefor walked covered up with Nina’s sarong as a sort of chador. About two thirds up came our much needed boost: The nun arrived with her wards in a Hillux, and we got a lift the last third of the way on the back of the truck.

After picking up our gear at 4:30 pm, getting my phone back that I forgot in our room that morning (the ladies of the house were soo lovely and brought it out first thing when we came back) it was time to get on the road once more with one final goal for the day: Find cheap accommodation. How cheap? Well, it also turned out that we were a bit low on cash. To have enough money for fuel back, we could not spend more than $20 US. We had heard of guest houses on the beach in Com, about 50 km from Tutuala on the direct route, or 80 km along “proper” roads.

I felt adventurous, so we stocked up on 50c instant noodles and bananas sold at a cock fight we passed and took the direct route. The unsealed track was a rollercoaster ride through smoothed ruts up to 50cm deep, but actually quite nice. Until we hit a small step in the landscape and the road went up a coral limestone cliff. Nina got off and I managed the 50m over jutting limestone of up to head sizes. We almost gave up at the second such step when I saw on the GPS that the road would turn “sealed” right around the corner. One last solo balance act later we were on top of the plateau on a good sealed track.

Lovely little farms in the evening light on our way to Com

Lovely little farms in the evening light on our way to Com

The last hurdle was the drop back down from the plateau to the coast. The road surface was 50-70% gone, but the beautiful village stretching the hill from the escarpment down to the sea made up for the bumpy ride. Villages in limestone cliffs, with springs and ancient trees growing over the rocks are just stunning.

We got to camp for $16 in the empty Com Beach Resort after waving our $20 note and putting on the sad puppy face. This place was bizarre. A proper resort style complex, with no staff or customers in sight. Just the buildings and furniture. I wonder who thought this would work out here …

In the evening we got to treat our sunburn (Nina’s back is burnt as well) with proper gel for burns and had a taste of the instant noodles. They didn’t taste too bad but something in them made the gum of your mouth hurt like a bruise you might get at a dentist’s…weird.