Day 238-239: Motorcycle Diaries; Greens and Blues

I was not sure what to expect when I arrived in Lombok after a rolling ferry journey and a bus ride that lasted 5 hours instead of the promised 2; but I was happy to be here and back with Rob. He'd even, ever so kindly, put in the ground-work and made some new friends as well as bumped into an awesome couple that we'd met in KL who had promptly checked into the same guest house.

After a few days of private refection this was exactly what I needed and after a quick ride around Singgigi, on the western coast, and a delicious barbecued corn-on-the-cob (there are dozens of little stands on the road side where diligent fanning of coals and a hot chilli sauce produce amazing cob-based snacks) we all headed out for dinner and a few Bintangs..

The following morning began, as all days should, with a banana pancake and a hot cup of java before Rob, Brian and I set off on motorbikes in a northward direction to see what we would see. And there were some spectacular sights; a smooth road drew you into generously curving bays before sweeping you out again to the edge of the blue ocean like the curves on a never-ending jigsaw piece. Literally every bend in the road presented a picture-perfect view of another bay, endless ocean and even – because it was a incredibly clear day – the Gili Islands sitting like green smudges on the blue horizon.

Needless to say we stopped in a few of these coves for a dip in the clear sea before the smooth road gave way to a more familiar bumpy track, beach views became luminescent green paddy fields and mountains loomed large and grey in the distant, surrounded by heavy clouds. Quite without trying we even found a waterfall, a host of over-excited waving school children (the kind of which we hadn't seen since India) and an enthusiastic guardian of the magnificent falls who showed us around.

It was another fantastic day on two wheels, but our last for a while since we were heading for a strictly no-motor corner of the world.

***Apologies for lack of photos, the internet is tooooo slow***

Day 233-235: Motorbikes and Monkeys (not at the same time)

Leaving Lovina wasn't easy – and not only because heavy rain fall had left main roads looking pretty water-logged and the small side road that we were staying on was completely flooded. Water lapped onto the high pavements where failing drains kept water-levels at about ankle height. In the morning the sun was shining and the roads, caked with rippling mud, were being diligently swept by shop owners and restaurateurs alike.

We had loved the relaxed feel and beautiful scenery of North Bali but now we were heading south – not quite to the afore mentioned white beaches – but to Ubud.

Ubud sits surrounded by rice paddy fields and filled, I mean filled to the brim with artists. It has a similar feel to Pai in northern Thailand, where musicians were out-numbered only by tourists and even a fair share of them could play something... Here the artists are equalled by tourists and touts, walking 10m of undulating pavement here is equal to, I would say, 2 offers of taxi services and, after dusk, the same number for dance shows.

So we decided to escape the hubbub and hired our favourite mode of transport to explore the magical and ancient hillside. After an early breakfast (pancakes, fruit salad and coffee are included in our room rate, hurrah!) we set off on what would turn out to be a 60km ride to a sacred site near Pasar Siring, which lies just 18km north of Ubud.

Our detour did afford us this spectacular view and when we did arrive at Tirta Empul the sun had emerged and was bathing the temple and the crystal -clear waters of the surrounding baths – said to contain magical and healing properties – in a warm and hazy glow.

Naked men and women wrapped in full-length sarongs prayed and washed in segregated baths that sat between a huge and beautifully ornate temple. School children rushed excitedly around the grounds, either soaking wet or grouped in formal dress ready for lunch.

Exiting Tirta Empul was the only less than magical experience; visitors are shepherded through what must be at least 2km of winding path lined with souvenir shops. There must be 100 shops all selling exactly the same 12 items that seems to go on and on forever until you emerge no thankyou-ed out into the car park. Surely this must dirty even the most cleansed beings...?

Our other port of call in Ubud was Mandala Wisata Wenara Wana, most commonly known as The Sacred Monkey Forest Temple. Unfortunately apart from the sign at the gate that asks visitors to respect those that worship there I couldn't really see any thriving trace of religious importance; it's just a really good place to go to see extremely cheeky monkeys up close.

The many primates that call this home are not the kind that will shy away from delving into someone's bag in search of bananas or, as Rob found out, making a leap for your bottle of water mid-sip. Sitting down here is not really an option, constant movement is really the only way to avoid coming under a fairly rigorous stop-and-search. It's an excellent hour-or-so entertainment.

Ubud is a very varied town. A (genuine, not fake) Dolce & Gabana shop sits on the same road as a sprawling market where every type of clothing or souvenir can be bought for next to nothing. Ancient temples sit along side swanky restaurants. You can by a meal for 15,000 Rupiah (just over 1GBP) 200m from a place where a mojito costs 10 times that much – during Happy Hour. No prizes for guessing which side of the divide we're on.

Ubud would be a great place to come on holiday; when you've got less time and more money. I'd recommend it to anyone.

Day 175-182: The life of Pai

Vast, vast amounts of blog-space could be used to describe, in detail, all the reasons that Rob and I fell in love with Pai. Pages could be written documenting each of the many, many factors that made it almost impossible to leave and absolutely necessary that we return again.

We knew before we got there that this town in the north of Thailand would be a good'un; almost everyone that we had met on this trip that had been to Thailand cited Pai as their favourite place. Officially an ex-hippie community (Thai authorities cleared out the thousands of farang that were living there with free spirits but without visas a number of years ago) the hippie spirit - we knew - was still going strong.

The spirit of Pai reached us when we were still about an hour away. On a short break from the journey from Chiang Mai, we were musing at our total lack of preparation for our visit - none of us had even considered where we might be staying when we arrived. At this point we were approached by a Finish girl who told us of the guest house she had just left in Pai, insisting that we stay there and pass on her love to the owner and other guests. We called, they had rooms available and they'd pick us up from the bus station. Lovely.
When we arrived we were taken to Happy House in a tuk tuk and the owner, Fritz, introduced us by name to each of the other guests that were relaxing in the bar area. This has never happened before. Rarely have guest house owners known our names - let along us and everyone elses; we knew this was going to be a special place.
Then we were shown our rooms; Lukas took a dorm room and Rob and I were given our own bungalow - yes you read correctly. We had a front door, a porch, a bathroom, a fridge and within about 2 minutes of being there, Rob had set us up a bookshelf too. We were going nowhere fast.

Fritz took the time to tell us about the area and we sat and had a cuppa (free tea and coffee!) with one of the few long-term stayers, a British musician. It was early afternoon so we hired bikes and headed into the hillsides to a pool. Just look at it (above) We would spend a lot more time here - especially given that it cost just over 1GBP to stay as long as you liked.

That evening the Happy family (it was like a family) were going out and we joined everyone for dinner and drinks and delighted in choosing from an almighty array of live music. In fact every night of our stay we ate with our fellow guests and enjoyed awesome live bands; thai and farang musicians played covers/reggae/blues/funk...you name it; someone, somewhere in Pai was playing it. Muscian heaven on earth.

In Pai we lost Lukas (damn education to recommense in Germany!) but we were joined by Rob's friends from home - Spooner and Sean - and a number of messy nights out ensued (see below)
By day we rode through incredible vistas to waterfalls and viewpoints and hot water springs and sometimes to nowhere in particular because the riding itself was such a joy. And by night we wandered through the night market which stretched out over the towns small streets and gifted a number of beautiful vintage dresses to my already bulging backpack.

When the day finally arrived for us to depart; we didn't. Aside from being too hungover, we weren't ready to leave.
Pai has a relaxed vibe, a creative undertone, a diverse musical soundtrack - it makes you want to kick back, chill out and not worry about a thing - leaving included. And so we've changed our tickets, stayed another day and promised ourselves that when we leave we would not be seeing beautiful Pai for the last time.

Day 174: 100km of joy

We loved Chaing Mai but after a few days mincing around the city we thought it was probably time to get out of town and - without opting for another jungle trek (too soon) - we of course decided to go by two wheels.

On leaving our lovely and super-friendly guesthouse, Diva, the owner broke the ice with a joke about me looking like I was having a baby after last night's cooking course and after much stomach-patting we met a German guy who heard we were planning to do a day of biking and asked to come along. This German guy turned out to be Lukas; a wonderful bare-footed man, all-round hero and soon-to-be adopted 365er.

Today we were doing 'The Samoeng Loop'; around 100km of breath-taking scenery, small villages, alusive waterfalls and - luckily - at least one mechanic. We had been going all of 30 minutes when, on easily some of the smoothest tarmac we'd seen in SE Asia, Lukas' back tyre got a puncture and, in an instant, was as flat as a pancake. A local guy informed us a mechanic was just around the corner and after a squeky 5 minute drive at 2mph a mechanic had a new inner tube fitted in no time at all.

We were off again! We climbed up to a beautiful view-point and stopped for lunch in Samoeng - which we estimated to be about half way round the loop. We knew the second half would be higher and even more winding, but we didn't expect to be literally driving through clouds. Watching them roll in over the green mountains and into blue skies was really something special.

We'd decided to do the loop with a bit of an added extension to avoid all the 'big' tourist attractions, by which I mean monkey shows, snake shows, elephant dance show - honestly, it was like Animal Cruelty Avenue; we were not up for it. But in SE Asia when you take the scenic route you really do take the scenic route and, though we managed to drive straight past most of the waterfalls we were looking for, really the driving was the main attraction.

We watched the sun set over a beautiful lake and drove home in the dark to the infamous Saturday Night market in Chiang Mai; by then we'd persuaded Lukas to some north with us to Pai and there was plenty more biking to be done.

Day 138: The Loop [day 3]

The last stop on our almost- Motorcycle Diaries adventure was a 7km long cave called Kong Lo and it was even more spectacular than we had imagined a cave that was 7km long would be.

We had opted for the more cost-effective method of sharing a car with some other travellers also staying at our hostel and so after a big breakfast (look how happy Rob is with his eggs and half-a-loaf of bread) we arrived in style and ambled our way to the river down a lovely wooded path.

At the rivers' edge the guys in the 'Boat Committee' (so the sign on the wooden hut read) sprang into action and armed with head torches and super stylish life jackets (Jeff, below, proving that day-glo is still very much en vogue) we sailed in longboats to the mouth of the cave where we climbed off and ventured inside.

Just inside the cave there were more boats waiting; engines were quickly carried into the boats by our two drivers, both with really bright head torches wired up to battery packs at the waist (safety first.) We climbed in and departed at full speed into the darkness.

The cave is incredible; you could barely see where the stony walls ended and the murky waters began. Stalactites hung from the ceiling while water dripped and bats flapped and squeaked overhead - just as I was wondering how on earth these guys navigated through the blackness we turned a corner and saw daylight, we also saw that some rapids had formed and we were heading straight for them. When you think about it; one little bump into the slimy walls isn't too bad. The boat tipped left and right and we took in some water but the engine powered through and we were back on course in no time. Actually; I think it was my favourite bit of the ride.

Stopping on the river bank we waded to shore and had a wander around the local village; which was a quaint and muddy experience - my boots had been well and truly broken into that kind of thing on day 1 and it was nice to squelch around again, really.

We were returned the same way again, still marveling at nature, and all-in-all the round trip was about 3 hours and well worth the visit. We were smoothly deposited back at our hostel; slightly cleaner and much drier than we had started our Laos-based motorcycling adventures, but we've definitely got a taste for it so expect plenty more two-wheeled trips from 365.

Day 137: The Loop [day 2]

Okay. We admit it. We cheated; The Loop is for hardened cyclists, the kind of people that want to burn rubber, come out caked in mud and have a thousand bugs die on their chiseled cheekbones as they roar through the country side at 100 mph on two screeching wheels.

We got the bus.

Actually we got two buses, and in true local fashion we made our way to Ban Na Him in jumbos (open-back truck with two benches along the side) travelling with a motorbike, a puppy, a ladyboy and - at it's peak - 19 other people. It was cosy and, as we discovered later, not actually the cheapest or quickest way to do it...ah well!

In Ban Na Him we found a hostel and dined with the owner and her extended friends and family over alot of Beer Lao and brushed up on our language skills; dun beer lao (drink beer) and jun jar (cheers) are now well and truely in our vocabularory.

We also arranged to visit the local attraction, Kong Lo Cave, with a Korean/French group that were also staying at the hostel; this meant going in the luxury of a car rather than on motorbikes as we had originally intended - but it was cheaper and easier and I was well on my way to being pretty hungover in the morning.

Day 136: The Loop [day 1]

'The Loop' is a off the beaten track route around the Bolikhamsai & Khammuan provinces. Most travellers will spend 3-4 days on a motorbike to complete the whole loop but after being rained-in and most definitely rained on while at the Bolavan Plateau we decided to adjust the itinerary a little.

We set off bright and early from Tha Khaek with Steve and Jeff and after an initial detour (which was literally taking the scenic route in this case) we found our way on the smooth roads of Route 12 to our first stop; Tham Pha Fa; a remote cave filled with Buddha statues. The amazing thing about this cave, apart from how so many stone statues got there when it was discovered by a local farmer in 2004, is that in the dry season it is accessible by foot. When we arrived kids were throwing themselves off a bridge into the swollen river and we had to access the cave by boat; we sailed above bars and tables and benches and scrambled up the rock face into the cave.

Our next stop meant some more boating and we sailed out of the glorious sunshine and into the darkened Xieng Liap; a stalactite-filled cave where a monk and a beautiful young lady were meant to have secretly met. The name literally means monk (xieng) and sneaking around (liap).

But the bike tour needed to go on and our third and penultimate stop was to be the most adventurous yet. We'd heard that the dirt track to The Falang could get a little hairy in the wet season so when we rolled off the tarmac and into thick sticky mud we quickly disguarded the motorbikes and took off on foot. The path that we hoped lead to the shady swimming spot went from muddy to very muddy and we eventually ended up wading through a puddle that was waist height - it was awesome. Luckily our navigation had been accurate and we found the cool spot and slid down the muddy bank into the cool waters of the Nam Don river for a swim.

The sun was out in force (hurray!) so the river was a welcomed break - and a good chance to confuse some bemused locals that were either telling us with hand actions that the path was impassible because the water was shoulder height, or they were happily telling us that they'd slit our throats. Thankfully neither occurred.

Our last and final stop in this, the southern section of The Loop, was at Tham Aen; a huge cave that we had to wade over a river to get to. As the sun set we made our way round the gloomy interior by incredibly useful, if a little un-aesthetically pleasing, staircases that had been built in.

Under a starry sky we sped back to Tha Khaek to enjoy a beer and dinner at one of our favourite spots on the Mekong; a place where you can in fact see Thailand. Which is pretty special really.

Day 1 on The Loop had been a outrageous success; and there was plenty more to come...

Day 132 - 134: Waterfalling / Water falling

It was a soggy morning in the south of Laos that the newly-extended Team 365 set out on motorbikes to the Bolaven Plateau. 'The southern swing', as it is perhaps only known to tourists, is the loop that circles this beautiful landscape of waterfalls and coffee plantations.

Dressed in suitably ridiculous ponchos we headed off into the light drizzle and fortunately by the time we reached Tat Champee the sun had come out (a bit) and in true British spirit we dipped ourselves into the cold water for a dip in the pool below the gorgeous falls. Rob even went for an expedition around the back of the waterfall that ended in a few tense moments of cross-current swimming back to our side of the bank - you can follow his jaunt on the photos scrolling on the right >>

On we rode, opting to walk through the bits that were too muddy, to see Tat Yuang and Tat E-Tu - which were (we believe) all the more beautiful for seeing in the wet season when the greenery was more lush and the water falling even stronger than usual. Our deep-seated appreciation of the wet season was not to last long.

Riding on to Tat Lo, a small village that had been recommended to us by a few fellow travellers and appeared on neither the Lonely Planet map of the area or any of the photocopies we had been given, it began to rain. Then the sun set. Then we rode for a further hour in the cold, dark rain until almost all hope was lost and then we found Palamei; a haven of a guesthouse ran by a lovely man called Po who cooked us a wonderful dinner and gave us a bed for the night for next to nothing.

The following morning we enjoyed a lie-in and a leisurely breakfast in the searing sun before gathering the necessaries and revving off into the distance to the spectacular Tat Hang that boasts a huge 140m of falling water. But before we reached it; vast amounts of water falling out of the sky forced us to turn back. And at the hostel we remained all day, playing cards and taking bets on when the torrential rain would stop. At 6pm (Jeff won the bet), when the sun had set and everyone's hands were red-raw from many-a-round of Chinese Snap, the rain did stop. Rain had stopped play for the day but it was a relaxing and fun day even when the water falling wasn't exactly as we had planned.

We rose early the following morning hoping to 'beat the monsoon'; weather in Asia is not that predictable. Again it rained and after a few more slippery encounters with local falls we admitted defeat and started out on the 86km back to Pakse.

This trip, we hope, will be the perfect precursor to "The Loop"; a longer and more challenging bike ride to add to our Motorcycle Diaries collection. Hopefully we've ran our bad luck out on the rain front but only time will tell...needless to say, you'll hear all about it here - thanks for reading.

Day 95 & counting: A warning from Team 365

In the interests of health & safety Team 365 would like to warn all readers that staying for "a couple of nights" in Mui Ne may not be physically possible.

Extensive research in the field can confirm that one's feeling of health, safety, happiness and all-round relaxation will increase dramatically on arrival, especially in the area immediately surrounding Ly Ly Guesthouse.

Offering a mere 36km of beach and a plethora of swanky resorts, chilled out eateries, multicoloured sand dunes and a high number of bicycles and motor bikes to explore them all on - it is the leaving that is proving difficult.

Ly Ly Guesthouse, for example, is ran by a friendly German/Vietnamese couple and is the kind of place that leaves it's fridges and kitchen open. Guests are asked to mark on a sheet anything they take. A few bottles of spirits sit on the bar in the seating area at the front of the guesthouse, right on the one and only road that runs through Mui Ne, and have not been taken - or even visibly touched in the...3...no...4 days that we've been here. It's that kind of a place.

We've been basking in the slow pace of life here in a climate that switches from sunny to stormy without warning, leaving the untrained tourist soaking and sweating - but always smiling - in quick succession.

And so we feel it necessary to provide ample warning for those considering entering this unassuming town; enter at your own risk and leave...only if you can.

Day 20&21: On the road again

Well it's been a while! Apologies for the gap between posts, readers, but truth be told we've been rather busy so I'm going to try and tell you a little bit about everthing.

Where did we leave you? Ah, yes, Baga - well we've been going further south to Palolem, which we'd heard was quiet and non-touristy but in fact was definitely not so after some more very pleasant beaching and eating we hit the road again - on scooters!
Needless to say - all of the driving was left to Rob.

On the first day we explored the Cotigoa Wildlife Reserve and got very lost, was very little life that was wild (they had a cool python, it was in an enclosure though) and some beautiful sights.
On bike day numeros dos we drove north to a town called 'Betul' (pronounces 'beatle', but only to us so we could sing "Back in the USSR" as we scooted along the highway) where the Lonely Planet (hereafter: LP) had told us a 'tin-tub ferry' crossed a pretty river to Cavelossim where pristine beaches lay. This was the LP's first error of the day.

The ferry (it was tin tub) actually left from Assolna - but driving to Betul and through the fishingport with all the bright boats, pungent smells and waving fisterman was a pleasure of a detour. We made our way on the free ferry and headed to Cavelossim beach which was, team 365 are sorry to report, is not pristine (LP error #2) We had a dip but it was nearing lunch so we hit the road south to Mobor (pronounced 'Mordoor' but only by us- much to the confusion of those we asked for directions, who apparently weren't well acquanted with the whereabouts of Middle Earth.) We were heading here because the LP had pronounced "The Blue Whale BeachShack" to have the most picturesque views in all of Goa.

Driving past all the 5* resorts we rounded the peninsular to see, finally, the sign we'd been looking for seemingly standing alone in the dunes. Dutifully we followed the arrow on the sign over the red hot sand to a deserted and downtrodden hut which sat by another sign informing us that this was "a gift to Goa: as recommended in the Lonely Planet..." Not quite. (LP error #3)

We stopped in Cavelossim for a long lunch and almost definitely outstayed our welcome trying to keep out of the sun. Back en route home we JUST made the ferry - actually driving on as it was departing and followed the coastal road back to Palolem.

First, however, we found Agonda. The beach we'd been looking for - no tourists, barely any locals, just miles of actually pristine sands. Here team 365 would like to note that we think we've got pretty good at spotting a hard-sell when we see one, but as we left our bags in an almost-closed looking restaurant and the man casually asked if we were looking for a hut: "oh no no no". That was fine - we could use one of his to change in: "really? oh, that'd be great..." we approached a line of beautiful doll-houses of stilts "sure - use the shower, leave your stuff, however long you like". We were hooked. "Why don't we live here?" Shortly after we agreed to stay for two nights in two days time. Best. Sell-in. Ever.

Before heading back to Palolem we made another LP-inspired detour to Patnem, in search of "the best coffee and brownies in Goa" at a place called Home. Unfortunately another sign but a closed venue. Which begs the question: why not take the sign down when you close? Either way, we had a drink on the beach and watched the sunset.

We drove back to Palolem and ended up watching the cricket with some friends we'd made in Baga and getting quite drunk on 2for1 cocktails before, absolutely shattered, going to bed.

Day 13: Oh what a perfect day

There was a time in my life when I would have argued that a beach without sand was not a proper beach. Croatia changed this pebble prejudice.
Equally so, there would have been a time when I would have argued that the sea was enough water on a beach. Mandrem and Arambol have now changed this too.

After a few days of beautiful sunsets, amazing food (I found humus and Rob's bid at vegetarianism was well and truely demolished by the local speciality: sea food) and, disappointingly,"nights out" that were closed down and the music switched off at 10:30pm in Anjuna. Team 365 decided to hire a bike and explore further north in Goa. Yes, I said bike, one with a motor.

Now followers of 2005's Chronicles of Australia will know that those with two wheels and an engine have not always been a friend of mine, but this time I had brought my diver, sorry, I mean boyfriend.

So with Rob firmly at the reigns and a speedometer fixed firmly at zero (this didn't change throughout the day despite some definite acceleration) we headed off early on our scooter.

Mandrem beach, of the whitest sands and leaning palm trees, lies between the sea on one side and a gently flowing river on the other that we were lucky enough to have had almost to ourselves.

We paddled in the shallows - of the river and the sea - where one began and the other stopped was fantastically difficult to tell, before getting back on the scooter - this time with me driving - to further our adventure.

And, let us be honest, I was never going to come off a bike compleletely unscathed. But in a moment of small road meets large truck and the emergency stop that followed I feel pretty pleased with only having lost the skin from the top of my big toe.

Anyway. Onwards and upwards. Literally. Arambol was a much more lively town and we were advised to head round the cliffs to a "sweet water lake" - and sweet it was.
Who would have thought that a lake on a beach was a good idea? Certainly not us, but converted we are and so after a refreshing - and disctintly not salty dip - we paused for a moments reflection on what a beautiful place we were and how lucky we were to be on this trip.

Before the sun set we rode over hills and along rivers through winding roads home to Peace Lands, our lovely hotel, before realising we had lost our room key and a man had to literally saw off the padlock so we could enter. That's karma for you.

All in all - our best day yet. (quick check with Rob that it was fair to say....yes, "agreed")