REPORTS ARCHIVE

Nick's Reports

Check out our exact location using the detailed maps on our ROUTE page.

Click here for  LESLEY'S REPORTS; views from a, "female pillion's" perspective.

 A translation service is also on Lesley's page.

Congratulations to Nick & Lesley as they complete their World-Global-Trek.

Wattisfield, Suffolk, England; Saturday 9^th May 2009. 

Final Report

We have been back in England three weeks now and are presently staying with Les's sister Sally. We are very comfortable in a converted shed at the bottom of her garden, and a very nice shed it is too! Our own house is still rented out and will remain so for the foreseeable future.

Good news travels fast and it wasn't long before the local press and radio wanted to talk to us. We completed the story with our local Easter Daily Press who'd been publishing articles on our progress around the world from time to time. Read the full newspaper reports on our COMMENTS page.

We have also been very busy catching up with our two sons, Daniel and Ian, located in Cornwall and Norfolk. As can be expected, after nearly three years away it was great seeing them again and sample some real ale - proper beer! It was also fantastic meeting up with the rest of the family as well.  We now have to catch up with all of our friends and bore them to death with stories and thousands of pictures! Some housekeeping was also in order as we had to arrange appointments with doctors, dentist and, most importantly, the bank!

All in all it has been a busy time of late and we haven't really had time to sit and reflect too deeply on what we have achieved, perhaps that’s a good thing?

It was great meeting our web master and good friend, Eddie with his wife Agnes, and their granddaughter Nicole on our way back to Norfolk. Without Eddie’s web design skills we would have been very selfish and kept our two years - ten month, 89,000 miles adventure to ourselves, so a big thanks Eddie, you're a star.

On its return to British soil the bike let go of its rear bevel drive bearing again, that makes failure number four! This was closely followed by the starter motor. Mind you, the poor old girl has now 105,000 miles on the clock so it was hardly surprising.

Expert BMW mechanic, Kevin at KRF Motorcycles, Unit 3, Bessemer Road, Norwich let me use his workshop to carry out repairs. With his invaluable help, advice and guidance everything is okay with the old girl once again. Contact them on 01603 629916.

We had always planned our homeward ride across Europe to be brisk. Europe is the most expensive continent and we will explore it more thoroughly another day; possibly in a camper van!

I had already purchased insurance for the bike online in Turkey with Carol Nash but the registration worried me a bit. When we left the UK in 2006 the DVLA told me that the bike would be recorded as being permanently exported, which is normal procedure if you’re away for along time. It turns out that while we've been passing through our 28 countries, and in order to conform to international law, you have to be registered in your home country, which we weren't! I've already met up with Paul Gowen at the RAC office in Bristol. He’s been a great help to us and has dealt with the Carnet document covering the import and export of the bike into foreign countries. I returned our carnet to him and he told me that it is still a bit of a grey area with DVLA by not having a definitive answer.

It appears one option is to SORN the bike in this country (Statute Off Road Notification) and renew that annually online. The bike then remains registered but not used in the UK. This advice I gleaned from a forum on the Horizons Unlimited website. Oh well, we'll know for next time!  I was worried when getting off the ferry in Dover that we'd be stopped by customs, but we rode through with no problems at all.

Of course the other problem is, here we are back on British soil with a bike without tax, MOT, and registration. An email to DVLA advised me to book in for an MOT then I could ride it to that appointment. So this arrangement got us back to Norfolk. Chris Ball, my good friend at CJ Ball Motorcycles in Norwich, sorted the MOT and, armed with the pass certificate, we filled in a form at our local DVLA office in Norwich and got our road tax and the new registration document. Thankfully I even kept my old number plate. There we are, no drama after all!

The more I think about it, the bike did very well indeed. She covered 89,000 miles while being ridden overweight at 525 kilos on unpaved roads like dried-up river beds, and we're still running on the original BMW shocks! Miraculously our BMW metal panniers and top box, including the frame work carrying them, has remained in one piece. Okay, we had four bevel drive bearings lasting for 46k, 40k, 4k and 16000 miles, the 4000 mile one was due to a rusty bearing! We also had to replace one set of para-lever bearings on the back swing arm, oil seals on the final drive, electronic ignition and a coil.

When I had the starter motor out I found it just needed lubrication. Kevin, at KRF, took the opportunity to look at the clutch and told me it was only half worn, and it’s still the original one having lasted 105,000 miles. Also the clutch slave cylinder was as dry as a bone, (apparently another weak point). The throttle cables are still the original ones as is the brake fluid, which I'll replace very soon anyhow!

Other overland adventure travellers we’ve spoken to, either in 4x4's or bikes, have said that there's no vehicle that won't brake something at some point if you take the vehicle into adventurous territory, so considering all this, our bike has done really well indeed.

We've used 28 tyres of various brands, some even being replaced ahead of schedule. Careful planning where we'd get our next tyre from meant changing tyres a little early at times, but by planning ahead there was no need to carry spares. Tyre mileage varied but 10 - 11000 miles for a rear and half again on the front was about the norm; I wasn't drag racing off the lights you understand!

Fuel consumption was good, high 40s to high 50-miles to the gallon which with our 30-litre tank gave us plenty of range and no need for extra cans, just a bit of planning. She has run on all sorts of dodgy fuel and didn't need the special plug I had bought. This plug made adjustments to the engine management computer to counteract bad fuel. Whilst we struggled for breath at 15,000 feet in the Andes, the bike didn't miss a beat. Kevin tells me that with a few checks and renewals she will be good for another 100,000 miles before any major rebuild. She's still all ‘stickered’ with flags from countries around the world and I will keep her that way. So will I get rid of her? No I don't think so; we're family now!

On the clothing front, our 'Hood Jeans' have been fantastic, still comfortable and wearing well after all those miles. Riding the bike or just relaxing they are a perfect choice - Thanks Chris & Julia.

Our, 'Pooleglobaltrek' has been a dream come true made even more special with a dream woman on the back, (we just celebrated our 30-years wedding anniversary)! The world is a fantastic place and, for the most part, filled with fascinating cultures, stunning countryside and friendly people. Visit any country in the world, talk to the local people, avoid the hot spots, which might be on the next block, and like us, you will have the time of your life.

A big thank you to all the people who left messages in our guest book and sent emails of support and encouragement over the years, you made it feel like we weren't that far away. And a big thanks to all the lovely people we met on the way, we will be back one day.

So, where next you ask? Well we have some unfinished business and I think a ride to India in 2011 will finish the job off.

We are also planning a Pedal-cycle trek to Africa in 2010. We are so unfit so it’s time to take some exercise. A bit extreme you say? Perhaps, but that's how we like it now!!!

Thank You And Good Night!

Nick.

THE END.

Biarritz, France; 6th April 2009

A short bike situation update from the sharp end!

When we left Greece the bike was misbehaving, popping and banging although she was still tapping along ok.

We rode progressively through Italy and all the while trying to find a BMW mechanic to quickly look at it. We did find one but not before he got stuck into his pasta and wine lunch, we had no luck today! Undaunted we then rode through France and into Spain where we stayed with Tom Smith, our old cycling friend.

After five days of being well-fed and watered we headed onwards with our sick bike. I had thought I'd fixed it after finding the waterlogged air-filter, but no). We rode to Valencia in the hope of finding a BMW bike dealer. Just on the outskirts I had some help! A Hyundai car salesman jumped on his laptop and found the address, then printed out a map. As I stepped outside a gent in a posh BMW car offered his assistance, and actually led the way to the shop! Aren’t the Spanish wonderful? And no one stole anything off me!

We arrived at the shop to find they didn't open for an hour, at 4pm, so we waited and when they opened and were first in. After checking the throttle bodies, which were perfect, the mechanic checked the coils on each spark plug and found that one was not working correctly. £100 later and we had a new coil and a smooth, born again bike!

We're now near Biarritz. Only two or three leisurely days ride to Calais via some Decathlon shops as we browse for new equipment! All’s well we should be back to the UK within a few days with mixed emotions about our impending return -  we're already planning our next adventure!

Nick & Les x

Kephalonia, Greece; 25^th March 2009.

We'd been in Istanbul for two weeks, the ship bringing the bike from Malaysia had arrived and we started to work towards getting it back from the shippers.

We took the ferry across the Bosporus and back into Asia and caught a bus to Wilhelmsen’s shipping handlers, Unimar. Here we had to pay a further £575 in local charges! Bearing in mind we'd already paid £704 for the actual shipping; this was starting to get very expensive. With time ticking away we decided we'd start the customs clearance procedure the next day, so we headed back to Sultanhamet on the ferry.

The following day we took the ferry directly to the port at Haydarpasa where we found the customs house and went looking for someone to help us. Several men were hanging around at the door but there was no reception area and none of the signs on the office doors helped us in any way! I did find one office that appeared popular so I hurled myself in. The guy, in a grey suit and with a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, behind the counter didn't understand me, nor me him. He shouted across to another smartly dressed guy in a suit on my side of the counter. That man was Eyup Dirice, yes, that was his real name! Fortunately he spoke a little English. I explained what I was there for and handed him my paperwork - then the paper chase started!

With Les in tow we visited various offices in this building. Somewhat heated conversations, accompanied with much vociferous arm waving took place between Eyup and an older guy in a dark suit with a fag and another man sitting behind an old desk piled high with paperwork. These altercations normally resulted in us either getting another piece of paper or scoring a stamp, or if we were very lucky - a signature.

If you can imagine an old black & white Russian spy movie, dull drab offices with equally cagey looking people who could just be detected through a thick haze of cigarette smoke, you would be half way there!

I left Les in an office with some other female secretaries and I chased after Eyup, who in fact was a customs broker. I was hoping to do some of the customs clearance myself and save some money but it would have been impossible for me, not being able to speak Turkish, and Eyup told me he was cheap!!!  Throughout the clearance procedure I didn't see one uniform and the higher up the building we got I found that once again, women were in charge!

I lost count of the number of offices we visited all over the port, some of which Eyup would walk into, push the guy on the other side out of the way and jump on the computer to get what he wanted.

After a full day spent tackling Turkish bureaucracy I had my stamp and signatures in the carnet, all be it in the wrong place! For first time in a month we saw the wooden crate which hopefully contained our bike. My heart skipped a beat when I noticed the end of the crate had been broken, but the important goods inside were thankfully unscathed. A fork lift brought my box outside to a team of Dockers, one of which told Les he was a good screwer! I didn't need a screwdriver, I needed a crowbar! He ripped open the box for me and there she was, cobwebs and all. I connected the battery, replaced the screen and mirrors and with a press of the starter button she fired into life, it was a beautiful sound.

The whole procedure took seven hours. It cost us another £150 in dockside fees - so Eyup told me! In total, the shipping by sea from Malaysia to Turkey cost us £1433, and we were bike-less for a month. For another £600 we could have flown it over, which I suppose is a lot of kebabs!!

It was fantastic being back on the road again as we zigzagged through Istanbul and back to the Paris Hostel where the bike was locked up for the night just around the corner.

We spent one more day in Istanbul which gave me time to replace a headlight bulb and pump the tyres up, then 'Pooleglobaltrek' was truly back on the road once again!

On a cold wet day we headed west out of Istanbul in the rain and hugged the coast as we rode through rolling green farming countryside to the border with Greece at Ipsala. The bike appeared to be running okay, although a little lumpy after its lay off. I'll get the throttle bodies balanced as soon as I can and all will be well with the old girl once more!

The border crossing into Greece was quite straight forward. Exiting Turkey there were a series of kiosks to visit. At the first I handed our passports and carnet to a police check who took the index number. Next, the immigration department stamped us out of the country with our passports, and lastly the customs dept. The customs officer looked at my passport then the carnet for the bike several times before calling over a couple of German custom officers working here? They explained that there was a discrepancy in the dates of our arrival in Turkey with that of the bike, which had only arrived a couple of days ago. After explaining the situation to their satisfaction we were soon through.  Then a most unusual experience as I rode up to the Greek side of the border. The Immigration dept took a quick look at our passports then handed them back. The customs officer walked around the back of the bike, saw the British registration plate and I thought he said, “Welcome home to Europe globaltrekers”, I could be wrong! We rode out of the covered area and into the Greek sun, stopped the bike, got off and hugged each other. We'd been away from Europe two years/nine months, and had covered 83,904 miles, (135,329 klms), it was an emotional moment.

After composing ourselves and blowing our noses we followed the E90 to Alexandroupoli on the coast of the Thrakiko Sea. Here we found the Hotel Beptina at £32 for a double room, prices we were going to have to get used to now that we are back in Europe!

Next day we had a short 97 mile ride, our first full day’s riding in Greece. We headed south on the E90 through gently rolling countryside of olive trees and vineyards with snow-covered mountains in the distance to Stavros and Stratoni, where we stopped the night at the Hotel Markos in Lerissos - I just love these names.

Roads here are generally good and the signs are, for the most part, in Greek first, then further away from the border in English. Unleaded petrol is 99pence a litre and dogs chase and bark at us as we pass which makes it all feel so very Latin American!

After such a long break off the bike I feel I’m struggling to get back in the grove. The saddle feels uncomfortably high after the rebuild and I'm struggling with balance! I’m sure it’s only a short-term problem which will hopefully settle after a few days. The bike is also finding the going tough as her starter motor still squeals when the motor catches. Finally, the Autocom communication system is crackling so much that we've pulled the plug and have to revert to the good old days of shouting to each other above the wind roar!

After a week in Greece we eventually arrived in Athens. On the way we have ridden through some spectacular countryside on some equally spectacular roads. A light smoke rising from the olive plantations indicates that it is the pruning season here. Since crossing the border we've met some really nice Greek people. In one village high in the mountains we stopped at a cafe and found a pot-belly stove to warm ourselves by, and we were even bought coffee by one of the local old boys. We were also made very welcome at a small motorcycle dealership called Moto-Center-Koutsis, outside Katerini where I'm given a corner of their workshop to do an oil change and again was supplied with copious amounts of free coffee.

Any pre-conceived ideas of a warm Greece in winter have been quickly dispelled as it’s been generally cold, although dry and sunny. When touring the world I like to immerse myself in local culture so it came as no surprise to me that I should suffered the fate of the Gods and have my very own Greek Tragedy. We found one of Greece's ski resorts and, while stopped to take pictures, I lost my footing and dropped the bike, breaking the indicator and cracking the crash bar. Poor Les rolled onto the road for the third time in 85000 miles! Thankfully everyone is fit and well and we all lived to tell the tale.  We've seen mount Olympus up close and personal at 2911 meters and marvelled at the ruins of Delfi.

Greece is big-bike country. I think most of the Honda Africa twins ever sold must have come here - I've seen so many; big trail bikes appear more popular than sports bikes.

In Athens we stayed at the Marble House Pension close to the Acropolis, www.marblehouse.gr

The bike needs new rear brake pads so we found ‘The Brake Shop' and the very friendly Varvarigos. I explain what I need and tell him what we've been doing for the last couple of years. With this he gives me a set of pads saying it was an honour to have us in his shop and they're free to us. We will add his web address to our site as a thank you, www.brakeshop.gr

By way of total contrast we then met the seedier side of life in Athens as I’m robbed! Well, not exactly robbed. We were sitting in a restaurant and I was acutely aware of someone sitting close behind me so I pull my jacket closer to me which was hanging on the back of the chair. Later I found to my horror that my phone was stolen from my pocket. I must be more careful, after all we are now back in Europe!!!

We've walked around Athens, the Acropolis and a museum and think it’s time to move on.

Leaving Athens was relatively easy, even through its chaotic traffic. We headed south to Nafplio, a coastal town with narrow cobbled streets, and then on to Sparti where we visited Mystras, the scene of Helen of Troy and her lovers’ liaison which kicked off the Trojan War - isn't LOVE wonderful?

Another milestone was passed as the bike also clocked up 85,000 miles for the trek so far.

We enjoyed a beautiful ride around a southern peninsula with mountains on one side and crystal clear water of the sea on the other. The verges of the roads were full of vibrant colours from spring flowers. Under welcome blue sky and sun we stopped at the little coastal village of Stoupa where we found the Netpos Nikoadeas Apartments. With a crusty baguette, cheese, salami and a bottle of wine, we chilled out and watched the sunset.

Next day we headed north again along the spectacular coast to visit Olympia, the venue of the first Olympics which were held here in 776 BC.

At the port of Patra I called into the local BMW bike dealership and got the throttle bodies balanced for free by the very friendly staff. Once again there was great sincerity shown by previously unknown people who were genuinely interested in our adventure, and what a difference it also makes to the bike, she is smooth once again. Thank you all at - www.andriopoulos.gr

From Patra we caught the ferry over to the island of Kephalonia. In recent times the island has gained world attention through the film Captain Corelli's Mandolin, which was filmed here. But the reason for our visit was to catch up with our old friends, Graham and Rachel. I worked with Graham and we retired within months of each other. I pursued my dream to ride around the world and he followed his, with his wife Rachel, to the beautiful island of Kephalonia. They've built a lovely house on the side of one of the many hills with wonderful views down the valley to the turquoise sea below. Olive groves and rocky land is grazed by herds of goats, the bells on their necks can be heard across the valley; it’s a perfect place to retire to. They also have a beautiful daughter, Sofia who is 11-weeks old and as content as her mum and dad; there must be something in the Greek air? Rachel has spoilt us with her home cooking. We have also been shown around this lovely island and visited the film locations of Capt Corelli's Mandolin.

On the “Man front” I've had the crash bar welded and replaced the rear brake pads.

Meanwhile on the “Girlie front” Lesley has got Sofia in her arms and looking all gooey eyed, I think its time to move!!! We are catching the night ferry to Bari in Italy.

Until the next time, Nick.

Short Update

Istanbul, Turkey; 5^th March 2009

After spending more cash, and most of the day with a customs broker in Haydrapasa Port, Istanbul, we have at last got our beloved bike back.  After connecting the battery she started ok, even after over a month at sea!

You just can't believe how good it felt to ride the short distance to the ferry, across the Bosporus, and through Istanbul Old Town. We are now back on the bike in Europe for the first time in just under three years!

We will leave Istanbul on Saturday 7th and ride the 200klms to Greece.

Needless to say it's all smiles once again in the 'Globaltreker' camp now that the family is all back together again!!!!!

Nick & Les x

Istanbul, Turkey; Saturday 28^th February 2009.

As far as our motorcycle adventure is concerned, we have ground to a halt. Since January 1^st we've only had about five riding days, which wasn't in the overall plan!

Things went wrong when we arrived in Bangkok intending to ship to India. First we both fell ill, then the 'Peoples Alliance for Democracy' closed the airport for ten days, our Thai visa nearly ran out so we returned to Malaysia. By this stage, still not feeling 100%, we decided to give India a miss and ship to Turkey and a short ride home. We will visit India in the future as we plan to ride from England across Europe, Turkey, Iran, Pakistan and India, thereby completing the missing piece of the Global Trek jigsaw.

I knew our timing was out to be able to ride through Pakistan and Iran due to the winter and heavy snows. India we could have visited, but with health and moral low we changed plans.

After shopping around, I found a shipping company called Wilhelmsen Ship Service in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, and as I write this, our bike should be pretty close to Istanbul for a Monday 2^nd March collection.

Ironically, after a few weeks rest in KL, a stay in Singapore with friends and a few days on a Malaysian Island beach, I felt ready to take on India with renewed vigour, but sadly the bike had already gone on its cruise!

Arriving in Istanbul hasn't help my moral as it was cold, wet and miserable, just like me!

Lesley meanwhile remained positive, not letting the failure of the original plan get to her. It's great having a mate who's so solid when you're low, even after being together for thirty years!

Anyway, I guess I've taken the bike around the world even if it didn't get ridden all the way, see our route page.

Istanbul has been a total change of culture and climate with both being a bit of a shock to the system. The average Turk is huge compared to the slightly built South East Asians. Where Asian vendors are generally quiet and modest, the Turks possess a more up-front approach in selling their wares. I've been pulled by my arm by a man who'd see me pay a street vendor and he also wanted money.  I've nearly been pulled into a shop to look at carpets and lost count of the number of times I've had a restaurant menu stuck in my face. Walking along the busy streets is a battle of wills, rarely will anyone give way, walking here is a contact sport, the domain of rugby players.

After basking in the tropical 30+ deg C for the last six months, we are now a wet 3deg C. This coupled with a change of food and water has seen my body struggling to adapt.

In the ten days we've been here we have visited many of the tourist sights, the beautiful mosques, churches and museums, the Blue Mosque, St Sophia and the Topkapi museum. Like everyone else here we have even got lost in the huge 'Grand Bazaar'. We have even taken a cruise up the Bosporus to the Black Sea even though it was grey, cold and raining.

But then by chance we met two of the nicest people who reset the default settings in this tired old adventurer.  Through the Overland Motorcycle Travellers website, www.horizonsunlimited.com we met Ozhan and his wife Ozge. They live outside Istanbul but came into town to find us. Ozhan is also a keen motorcyclist and he looks after passing travellers and showing them some Turkish hospitality. We met for coffee, walked, talked and exchanged stories of our adventures and dreams. Visit his own touring website at - www.ortadoguturu.com

Our meeting was very therapeutic and I’m glad to say I'm now back online. Istanbul is a beautiful city and the people are wonderful and I just want my bike back.

“What a difference a day makes”, cue for a song I think! The sun is shining on a brand new month and I can see on the other side of the mighty Bosporus that a big ship loaded with containers has just arrived. I'm sure I can hear the beast calling out to me from its cage onboard; the time is nearly here to fight our way through a bureaucratic maze with the authorities in order to release my friend from its chains and once again ride towards the horizon!!

Until next time. Nick.

Short Update.

21st February 2009

Hi Guys,

We've moved hostels from the Sultans Inn, and are now staying in the Paris hostel, Sultanhamet, Istanbul. www.istanbulparishostel.com and saving ourselves £15 a night.

It's so cold here and a we even had a little sleet this morning, we're missing the tropics!!!!

The bike should get here on 2nd March, so in the meantime we will just do the tourist thing, then cuddle up and try to keep warm!!

All's well.  Globalfolks  xxx

Istanbul, Turkey; 18^th February 2009

We have arrived in Istanbul, Turkey after a seven and a half hour flight from KL to Doha, Qatar. We then had a two and a half hour wait, followed by a five hour flight to Istanbul. It feels like we've been travelling for a couple of days!

After having had an eight hour time difference with the UK, we're now only two hours in front.

We are staying at the 'Sultans Inn' which overlooks the Bospherous, from the European side, the section of water connecting the Mediterranean to the Black Sea. We have great views from the roof top terrace where we have had coffee while the nearby 'Blue Mosque' was calling to pray, it is all very romantic.

The bike isn't due till after the 26th so we have some time to do the tourist thing and check this place out.

It's great to be back in Europe where we were greeted with a refreshing chill in the air but a bright sun. Hey, if I shout loud enough you might hear me as we feel that close to home!!

 Nick & Les x

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia; 14^th February 2009

We've now been in Kuala Lumpur for a total of four weeks and have attained the honour of being the longest staying guests at our hostel. Even in the little Indian restaurant at the bottom of our road they know what we want before we ask. We always get a smile as they shuffle around from dawn to dusk serving their delicacies.

We now feel reasonably integrated with KL and know where to go for the things we need. The mono rail can take you from one end of the city to the other efficiently, from where we can catch a train to other locations. The buses are plentiful and taxis are also relatively cheap so moving around without our own wheels isn't really a problem.

We find we can happily live here for around £20 a day per person which covers food and accommodation. Even with a daily infusion of 'StarBucks' coffee we can still remain within budget!

One of the disadvantages of remaining in one place for any length of time and becoming well known, is your wardrobe, or to be precise in our case - the lack of one!  In the hot and humid tropical climate I would change my shirt at least twice a day, sometimes more. We have to wash them out and quickly dry them ready to be used again; my five shirts are getting well used!

Another disadvantage of staying put for so long appears to be a tendency to withdraw into oneself more. Now that we've had a reasonably good look around KL, we find ourselves instead sitting comfortably in our room being entertained by the laptop with its free internet connection and borrowing the odd DVD from the hostel library. As a result we’re not gaining much interaction with the other travellers, but some times this is not as bad as it seems!

One thing lacking in this city are parks where one could just sit and people-watch. There are a few but they are a good walk away from us, which is a shame as you'd find us there more often.

During the first three weeks I arranged the bike’s shipping with 'Wilhelmsen Ship Service' here in KL, where the ever-helpful Alvin Chang was constantly e-mailing me with developments. He wasn't even worried about prompt payment. So, finding more cash in our pockets than usual, we headed off to enjoy this beautiful climate some more before heading to the cold of Istanbul. We packed up our wardrobe of well-washed clothes and decided to cat-walk them elsewhere!

Kevin and Ann, whom we stayed with in New Zealand, had now moved to Singapore and invited us to stay. So, making like real backpackers, we caught the bus south.

Crossing into Singapore was so easy without the bike, we only had to visit the immigration office for a stamp then it was back on the bus. At the bus station we were met by our friends and taken back to their penthouse apartment overlooking a massive pool, we felt like royalty, we were being transported from rags to riches!

We already had had a good look around Singapore in 2005, so this time, other than a little explore of China town, we just stayed pool side or walked around the affluent neighbourhoods where Porsches in the driveway were ten-a-penny.

Singapore is a well organised, disciplined and squeaky clean country. All well and good for appearances and tourists but I feel it negatively contributes to an overall lack of character. Kuala Lumpur on the other hand is a little grubbier and rough around the edges but has that distinct lived-in appearance which instils the warm character we strive so hard to find in major cities around the world. Bangkok is just plain grubby with so much life in its streets, but a good chance you could die falling down a hole on the footpath. Depending on how far out of your comfort zone you are willing to step, these cities have all got something unique to offer the visitor.

We had a pleasant five days with Kevin and Ann where we dined on Ann's great home cooking.  I could now understand where Kevin got his well fed appearance from! After a week we both felt quite rested and much fitter after all the eating and swimming, we were now ready to push on.

We next caught the night bus to Lumut, which is two thirds the way up Malaysian peninsula west coast. Here we caught the ferry to Pangkor Island and the village of Teluk Nipah, where we stayed at the, 'Sunset View Chalet'. We had a lovely large cabin for only £12 night with en-suite, a/c and a fan. We were also only 100-meters from the lovely white sandy beach, crystal clear sea and plenty places to eat. We kicked back for another relaxing break until the weekend when all the locals came to the beach to play.

We are now back in our usual room at the, 'Pujangga Homestay' hostel. The boys here missed us, and the Indians at the restaurants nearby, particularly the chef, were pleased to see us return.

I later met Alvin from the shipping company and paid my £700 bill for shipping the bike to Turkey. Using the internet, I also arranged some insurance for the bike from 'Carol Nash' back home in England to cover us as we progress through Europe.

On Sunday the 15^th we watched the final stage of the Tour of Langkawi cycle race, which finishes the week-long race with a city centre, 80k stage at the bottom of our road.

We fly out of Malaysia in the early hours of Wednesday 18^th of Feb and will be in Istanbul by lunchtime the same day.

Feeling as one of the locals now, I encourage you to come and visit Malaysia one day. You might just like it and not want to leave as I do; I know its going to be difficult for me!!

Latest pictures are in our MALAYSIA album.

Right, it’s Sunday the 14^th of Feb here and I've got to buy a rose and take my girl out to dinner, yip you've guessed it, it’s time for another curry!!!

Happy Valentines Day girls.

Until next time, Nick.

Short Update; 30th January 2009

Our bike sailed on the 29^th of Jan to Istanbul via Singapore at a cost of just over £600.

We are catching the bus to Singapore tomorrow morning, the 31^st and will be staying with Kevin and Anne Norman, whom we stayed with in NZ. Since we last met them Kevin has had to move with his job to sunny Singapore, not bad eh, works for us!

On Thursday the 5th Feb we will be catching another bus from Singapore to Pangkor Island on the west coast Malaysia for a week on the beach while holding off the inevitable return to a somewhat cool Europe for as long as possible!

We will be returning to KL on the 13th of Feb, ready for the Tour of Langkawi's last cycling stage in the city on the 15th.

On the 18^th of Feb we will be flying to Istanbul in Turkey.

After checking the prices of accommodation in Turkey, it looks like things are beginning to get very expensive for us. After so many years of cheap living it will be back to reality with a bang. As Lesley says, “It’s a nice place to visit but I wouldn’t like to live there.”

It will be good to move on to pastures new. This has been the longest stop of the trek so far but has given us the time to arrange the shipping. It has also given us valuable leisure time to visit places here whilst the bike enjoys its leisurely 27-day cruise to Turkey. I have to admit – it’s terrible without the bike, it feels as though I have lost a best friend.  Still, at least it’s hot!

Love to you all, Nick. x

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia; 21^st January 2009.

We had a great time over Christmas sharing a traditional Christmas dinner with our new friends Melvin and Denise from the Isle of Sheppey. We later wandered around the small village of Batu Ferringhi on Penang Island and chilled out on the beach. We even managed a dip in the, somewhat suspect, sea; a pity really as this beautiful tropical seaside location has a sea the colour of tea, quite similar to the colour of the North Sea back home! But we're told it’s not pollution just the muddy sea bed in this area!

The bike has also came out to play recently as we cruised around the island and visiting its many sights. The roads here lend themselves more to a sports bike but we managed it with gusto on the old girl all the same!  We liked it here so much that we stayed for a New Year’s party which was being held in a bistro on the beach and just over the road from our guesthouse, the setting couldn't have been any better.

After being stationery for three weeks we departed and rode over the six-mile bridge, the longest in Southeast Asia, I'm told, and back onto the mainland at Butterworth. We stopped the night at Ipoh then climbed up into the Cameron Highlands once again. We are often told that it’s never the same when you return somewhere special and this was certainly the case here. We had come this way to tackle another recommended twisty route up into the highlands but today bad weather stopped play. We rode through a monsoon and landslides washed mud and debris onto the road which made life on a bike very difficult to say the least. We arrived unscathed but looking like a couple of drowned rats into the town of Tanah Rata. I wouldn't have been surprised if the receptionist at the 'Jurina Hill Lodge' had said, “Sorry we're full”, but no, we scored a room and stripped off at the door!

I had wanted to visit a tea plantation for some time so we stayed a day hoping that the weather would improve, but no. All the while it was just cold and wet outside, and yet we were in the tropics; it was so unfair!

From the cold of the highlands we descended a great twisty road back down to the heat at sea level. It was so much warmer that we took our fleeces off and rode on to Malaysia's west coast and then south to Klang. All the while I was harbouring this romantic notion of finding a ship moored along the quayside and ready to whisk us and the bike to India, but alas, no. It’s a sign of the times to observe harbour security guards preventing prospective hitch hikers getting anywhere near a boat!!

We had planned to stay one night in Klang but unfortunately Les fell ill again and we ended up having to stay an extra couple of nights. It’s strange that Les and I have been virtually joined at the hip for the 2½ years we've been travelling together. For the most part we got on very well, except for the odd upset which everyone experiences from time to time. But a strange thing happened whilst I sat on my own in a restaurant next to the hotel. Les was poorly and stayed at the hotel but I missed her like mad, it just didn't feel right without her with me! Am I a sentimental old fart or what?

This latest bout of sickness made us review our situation. When we were both ill in Bangkok we were told, “You're both tired, listen to your body”. We are tired, even after 2 separate 3-week breaks in quick succession. Everyone who knew India had told us that you’d have to be on top of your game to survive there, and clearly we were not. Unknown to us until now, those 2½ years on the road had taken its toll and, coupled with fatigue, our health had gone downhill somewhat, and with it, any short-term craving for new adventure. It that case we have decided to bypass India, Pakistan and Iran and get to Turkey where we could easily ride home through Europe.

We had known that unfortunately Pakistan and Iran were out in any case due to our timing, and that winter in these countries would make riding through them impossible, although we’ve since been told we could have taken a train! So the plan was to get back to Kuala Lumpur and arrange shipping to Istanbul, Turkey ASAP.

After a day in bed Les was fit enough for the short ride to KL where, after battling through the traffic, we found the 'Pujangga Home-Stay' in the Golden Triangle area of Bukit Bintang, in the district of central Kuala Lumpur - www.pujangga-homestay.com  We have a nice double room with shared bathroom, breakfast, endless coffee and free WiFi internet access for £14 a night. The bike is also safely locked up in the entrance courtyard. The staff here are all very friendly and we are surrounded by eateries from all cultures; all in all, a perfect spot to plan our next move.

I'm not a city person, as I've mentioned before, but the centre of KL with its skyscrapers and acres of glass and stainless steel is like walking around a beautiful abstract sculpture.

We caught up with Rosman, a Malay and fellow motorcycle over-Lander who we bumped into on our last visit to KL. We exchanged opinions, experiences and received valuable help and advice from someone who'd actually ridden to Europe from Malaysia recently; what better guidance could we get?

Now felling somewhat better we immersed ourselves in a bit of local culture by attending a concert given by the Malaysian Philharmonic. We sat enthralled as they played some Dvorak, Shostakovich and Barber – all moving stuff, visit their site at -  ww.malaysianphilharmonic.com

Anyway, we've been here two weeks now. After numerous emails containing prices for air and sea freighting for the bike we chose Wilhelmsen Ships Services, where Alvin and Wishnu have been very helpful arranging things for us - www.wilhelmsen.com  Strangely enough, we began our adventure with this company who shipped our bike from Southampton to Halifax, Nova Scotia in June 2006 so it’s fitting they also do our last transfer. We duly delivered the bike to Port Klang yesterday, the 20^th where she had to be crated; see the pictures in our 'Malaysia Album'. The ship sails to Istanbul on Wed 28^th, which should take about 27 days; all for about £600, although I haven't had the bill yet!!

We will stay here in KL for another week until the ship sails just in case there's a problem. It’s also prudent to stay as we have some new credit cards being sent over after our old ones were mysteriously blocked! When we've got them, and the ship has sailed we will leave for pastures new. Rather than flying direct to Istanbul and the cold of the winter we are going to have some more beach time on a small island just up the coast from here. We will return for a stage of the Tour of Langkawi cycle race which finishes in KL with a stage around the city centre - ww.ltdl.com.my   We will then fly out about the 19^th Feb giving us just over a week in Istanbul to explore before the bike arrives, now that sounds like a plan to me.

Until next time, Nick.

Cameron Highlands, Malaysia; 4th January 2008

Short report

Cold, wet and miserable here in the Cameron Highlands. We will head west tomorrow in the search of some hotter and drier weather. While there will check out the port of Kelang to ascertain if it's possible to secure shipping to India. If not then we will travel to Kuala Lumpur and fly to India instead.

Until the next time, Nick.

Batu Ferringhi, Penang Island, Malaysia; 21^st December 2008

We spent 22 days in Bangkok, Thailand. Not only did this enforced stop create a 'Globaltrek' record for remaining in one place for any length of time, but it was also our second period of trek-stopping illness we've both had; the last occasion was about two years ago in Ecuador.

I arrived in Bangkok suffering the symptoms of flu, but after a visit to the chemist, and armed with some antibiotics, I managed to recover quickly only to have Les pick it up also and she was then confined to the room for a time. As if this wasn’t bad enough, my own symptoms returned again, this time accompanied with aches and pains. By this stage I was thinking malaria or dengue fever, which we'd heard so much about in the tropics. So off I went to a nearby clinic where they took a blood sample and carried out a few tests only to find that I was okay after all. Although this was a relief it still didn’t answer the question as to what was wrong with me. But, as quickly as it came, the fever left me, although by this stage I was feeling a bit of a fraud!

Meanwhile, poor Les was suffering with similar symptoms. We sat around the guesthouse, occasionally chatting to the other guests and generally feeling sorry for ourselves.

Fortunately, 'Lamphu House' is a great place to feel under the weather in, being smack-bang in the middle of Bangkok old town. The guesthouse has a quiet garden restaurant and sitting area with trees to shade you from the sun. We could sit and read in relative peace while just down an alleyway you could find yourself back in the throngs of holiday makers. There are plenty of places within walking distance, parks to sit in and people watch, which is one of our favourite pastimes. The river is also only a block or so away and one is never short of a place of interest. We also came across a building occupied by “Riverside”, a TV or radio station which had broadcast something the 'PAD' people didn't like, it now has a few bullet holes in its windows, perhaps that accounted for the gunfire we heard overnight?

We eventually collected our visas for India, which turned out to be in the form of a handsome sticker taking up a whole page of our passports. I have also located a couple of freight-forwarders who will fly the bike to India for us. As we're not feeling 100% we decided not to book anything just yet but take a more detailed look around the city; this proved to be the wrong decision.

We visited the National Museum which was crammed-packed with antiquities and so much history to read up on that I felt giddy and not really in the mood to absorb so much culture. On a more leisurely note, we partook of an exciting ride in a boat-taxi downriver to Chinatown where we lost ourselves in the labyrinth of narrow alleyways packed with busy market stalls selling everything one could imagine. The sights and sounds of the colourful people and perfumes of exotic spices are intoxicating and only heighten our ambition of getting back on the road ASAP to find even more exciting places to visit.

One of the nice things about this area is that there aren't too many westerners. This might sound a bit snobby I know but I'm finding the streets in the Khaosan Road district slightly oppressive as singlet-wearing, tattoo-covered backpackers fill the streets. I know I’m sounding middle-aged but I prefer, for the most part, mixing with the locals and I look upon Chinatown as my sanctuary!

We later found some backstreets where cars were in the process of being systematically dismantled by mechanics covered in oil. One was sitting on the floor, spanner-in-hand with an engine on his lap! There was even a VW Beetle repair shop with a beautifully reconditioned and shiny flat-four engine sitting on the footpath waiting for a buyer; I had one of those cars years ago. If you are a scooter fan then this is the place to be with Lambrettas and Vespas in their hundreds still going strong - or should that read “wrong?”

We wound our way into a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant and enjoyed some spicy noodles for lunch then headed back to the river and enjoyed a water-taxi home.

Whilst staying at Lamphu House we've met some very interesting people and one memorable character was a German guy called Johannes. Most mornings we ate our breakfast together while Johanna picked out the news highlights from the local newspaper. He was a strong-willed and focused lad in his late thirties, his catchphrase being, “No compromise”. He appeared to have his life all mapped out and worked hard in the European Alpine resorts during the winters, then enjoyed the rest of the year in he tropics where the Euro goes a long way. With his help I managed to change the tunes on our ageing MP3 players and even download some interesting stuff from his huge hard drive library.

One evening we spotted another BMW GS riding down our street and later found its owner to be Sandy. Sandy is an American guy working with the UN here in Bangkok and we sat chatting at a bar before he headed home after work. We met again several times before he had to go on a mission to Burma. Before he left he directed me to a backstreet BMW parts shop nearby where I stocked up on spark plugs and filters.

It was the King of Thailand’s birthday and part of the celebrations was a firework display and our vantage-point for this fun-filled evening was a traffic island in the middle of a normally busy dual-carriageway in the city centre. Thousands of people gathered around as vendors sold flags and food. Suddenly a police motorcycle escort team flew by and the roads were closed and a convoy of stretched limos wafted by. What surprised me more was that everyone went so quite, there was no flag-waving or cheering - as if he wasn’t there! I thought for a moment that perhaps the old King, who by the way is the World’s longest-reigning monarch, and had been ill himself? Perhaps he caught it off me and died? Why was everyone so quite? Then the fireworks were set off. For a good ten or fifteen minutes the mortars, set just the other side of the footpath, blasted spectacular fireworks into the sky above us causing us to hold our hands over our heads to protect us from the glowing embers as they fell. I don't thing these would be allowed back home!

At this time we were still stuck in Bangkok. The Peoples’ Alliance for Democracy, (PAD), still have control of the airport where the police and military appeared to be waiting for a peaceful resolution and just let the protesters get on with it. Meanwhile the country lost millions of Dollars through lost trade and tourism.

Our visas for Thailand were close to running out so, even with the airport eventually open and the backlog slowly clearing, it still didn't leave us enough time to arrange flights so we implemented plan 'B' and headed south back to Malaysia. I must say I was slightly annoyed because I hate having to backtrack. If we hadn't been ill and there hadn't been a demonstration closing the airport we'd be in India by now. But this is what makes travelling so exciting; you never know what's going to happen next!

We had a leisurely 3-day ride back to Penang Island and Batu Ferringhi and clocked up 83,000 miles for the trek so far. The hotel we stayed at last time we were here was full as we've come back in the middle of a national holiday. Last time we were here during Ramadan and Les remembered Mr Ashok, the owner of the hotel shop, telling us he also had a guesthouse called ‘Shalini’ close to the beach and not too far away. So after a phone call we were given a nice double en-suite room fifty meters from the best sandy beach - www.shalinisguesthouse.blogspot.com  We were so fortunate in finding this little place and it ticked all our boxes. It had an abundance of small restaurants to satisfy our hunger, and thankfully, it was also where predominately local Malay people were holidaying and as such was not spoilt by tacky tourism; having said that, there was still plenty to do here. We had jet skis, boats, parascending, the beach, horse rides and quad bikes. And all the while the blistering sun beat down on those brave enough to lie in its full glare. The sun made the sand so hot by midday that people could be seen sprinting from shade to shade!  For some people the noise from the bistro opposite, which goes on till late, might be a bit intrusive, but it is only a short stagger home for passing backpackers. One long-term resident was John, an Englishman and an all-round interesting character. He’s been here off and on for over forty years but had to reluctantly go home to his family in a freezing England for Christmas.

We are both feeling much healthier now and have started a fitness campaign by running down the beach before breakfast, and before the sand gets too hot.

We're going to spend Christmas here on the beach, New Year in the Cameron Highlands, then down to Kuala Lumpur to fly the bike and us to Calcutta, India early January.   Life can't get much better than this.

Our latest pictures are in our Thailand & Malaysia albums

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all.

Wrap up and keep warm!!!!!!!

Until next time, Nick.

Bangkok, Thailand; Tuesday 2^nd December 2008.   

Before we left Siem Reap I bought a 'Lonely Planet India’ guide from Top Vanna, our UXB victim who was trading from his stall just outside our guesthouse. When I un-wrapped it later I found it was only a photo copy, maybe this explains why it was so cheap! It was of good quality all the same, except it appeared to have been photocopied from a second-hand version and included the comments and underlining from its original owner. You just have to love these people for their endeavour all the same!

In preparation for the dirt roads I let the tyres down 10-PSI and gave the after-market air filter another clean. This is a foam 'Uni Filter’ which I bought in Australia and it is great. It has two filters in its construction, a narrow foam sock fits inside the intake funnel and acts as a pre filter, and then the air passes through to the main filter. I wash them both in soap and water; dry them off and re oil, which is quite frequent in these hot and dusty conditions.

The tarmac road west out of Siem Reap wasn’t too bad as we departed but then quickly deteriorated as we hit the dust and dirt for the next 37 miles, which we covered in just over an hour. After this section we were back on tarmac to the border town of Paoy Pot. Suddenly the road was terrible once again as we bumped over piles of rubble and rubbish to get to the Cambodian Immigration office where we were stamped out of Cambodia then back-tracked to the customs office. With no one else waiting we were told that the 'Boss', who apparently is the only one who can stamp my carnet, is sleeping as its ‘siesta time’ and wouldn’t be disturbed for an hour or two! So, parking the bike under his window, I got out my electric pump out and pumped the tyres up now that we are back on tarmac. Ha ha, the buzzing of my pump seemed to get his attention and I was summoned up stairs, oops! Not to worry about though as he wearily stamps the bike out, probably pleased to get rid of us and then goes back to bed!

On the Thai side we took our place in a queue for Immigration and eventually get a 1-month visa stamped in our passports. We then had some fun with a police check point where I had to fill in a couple of forms and leave copies of passport registration and insurance. The only insurance I had was from Malaysia but they accepted it anyhow. We then made our way to the customs office. Here I decided not to use the carnet as we were planning to fly out from Bangkok. I imagined that getting the carnet stamped here would just create problems so decided to wait for them to issue a temporary import certificate, but this created a bit of a problem. They couldn’t figure out how I'd been in and out of the country three times and that this was the first import certificate. I didn’t mention the carnet as I felt it would only just confuse the issue!

The whole border process took 4-hours to get the paperwork in order and we rode through the border town of Aranyaprathet and into Thailand once again. Whilst I was dealing with the customs office, Les had phoned through to the guesthouse in Bangkok where we planned to stay that night only to be told that we wouldn’t get into town as there was a state funeral and all the city center roads were closed. It was time to implement ‘Plan B’.

We rode west to the town of Sa Kaeo and spent the night there. Next day we headed south on route 317 which followed the Cambodian border to Chanthaburi and the Gulf of Thailand where we catch a glimpse of the sea for the first time in ages. We rode east along the coast towards Pattaya and stopping at the seaside resort town of Jumtien Beach where we find the 'Summerbeach Inn', a comfortable hotel at £10 a night with the bike safe in its car park.

We have now covered 82,000 miles, 132,000 klms for the trek so far. We have also had one of our best fuel consumption figures at 60 miles per gallon, 22 kilometres per litre; not bad considering the old girl has now done 96,612 miles in total! (Eddie says he'll give me a bad price for it when we return!!!)

We spent the weekend here in Jumtien, which is a very touristy resort town with hundreds of western ex-pats and tourists. The town appears to be a little Germany!

I seemed to be going down with ‘man flu’ and by Monday I was feeling pretty rough. Contrary to our rule of staying put when we feel ill, we rode on into Bangkok keen to arrange our flights out.

On our ride towards the city I jumped on a toll road which was great and not very busy at all. In fact, Les observed there were NO motorcycles using it; they are normally all over the place! At the first toll booth we created a bit of a commotion but I paid my toll and they let us through. At the second toll booth they jumped up and down and directed us to the side. I presumed that, like Malaysia, bikes are free and ride around the barrier to avoid a toll. No such luck here! On hearing a shout from behind I thought it was best to keep moving so I did! At the third toll booth the alarms went off and we're busted!! Well not quite, the policeman beckons us to the side and points out that motorcycles are not allowed on the toll road then helpfully leads us on his ‘high-powered Police pursuit bike’, a Chinese 125cc, against the flow of the dual-carriageway and down to the underpass, pointing us towards Bangkok's center. Thankfully they were all very helpful and no more money passed hands!

Bangkok is infamous for its traffic jams and associated pollution but we just followed our trusty Garmin sat-nav co-ordinates. As we waited in the queues of stationary traffic with my engine off, Les was following the map and we found our guesthouse in the old part of town without too much fuss in the Khaosan Road district. We have a very nice en-suite room with air-con for £10 a night in the middle of a popular tourist area of the city. www.lamphuhouse.com The bike is safe in the courtyard so we feel happy and will be here for a week or so while we sort out our Indian visa and air-freight for the bike. Well, that’s what we thought!!!

On our first day we took a taxi to the Indian Embassy where, for £50 each, we apply for our visas, they will not be confirmed for five days and you don't get your money back if they're refused!  So with that in mind there was no point in booking any flights just yet. We also spent some time researching freight-forwarding companies in town and came up with a couple of options. I emailed a few and we even visit one but we can't confirm a date until we get our visas!

With swollen glands on my neck and feeling like s**t I confined myself to the room. Being able to buy antibiotics over the counter here is great and I stock up via the helpful chemist next door.  I eventually recovered to some degree but then poor Les gets it. Thankfully we are in no hurry and we really do want to have a look around Bangkok before we go; but we have another problem!

The people of Thailand are in dispute with their government and are doing something about it. While not wanting to get onto any political soap box, here is my resume. One Prime Minister gets involved in some fraud and corruption; apparently he bought a premier British football team! He goes to court with his wife and is found guilty and sentenced to two years imprisonment but he does a bunk! Apparently, after a failed attempt for political asylum in the UK he's now in business in Dubai but wants to return. A relation of his is made Prime Minister and the Thai people understandably don’t like this, so 'The Peoples Alliance for Democracy' (PAD), in their yellow T-shirts take over Government House forcing the government to flee while the police and army appear to do nothing. There also have been the report of grenades going off and people being killed but at the moment it is a generally peaceful demonstration.

We had been here eight days and have had our Indian Visas approved and made a provisional booking with a freight-forwarding company for the following week but the political situation deteriorated. 'PAD' took over the airport which forced all flights to be cancelled and causing thousands of tourists to be stranded here in Bangkok, and still the police and army do nothing!

We have now been here over two weeks and the situation hasn’t improved much. They are slowly flying people out from a military airport south of Bangkok and people are taking busses and trains to Chiang Mi and Phuket which have international airports. Others are heading to Malaysia and Singapore to fly home.

Once again, we have a plan 'B'!  We will ride back down to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia and sort out our shipping to India from there. I've already had a couple of promising leads with our friends there and we have had other offers of help. Of course we are very fortunate not to be in any rush, although we have to keep an eye on our Thai visa as it is valid for only for 1-month. Watch this space!

Remember, our latest pictures are in our THAILAND album!!!

Until next time, from the front line!  Nick.

Stop Press,     Eddie writes that the Thai PM and his cabinet have been forced to resign, the stalemate seems resolved and airports will be open within the coming days but could take weeks to clear the backlog.

Siem Reap, Cambodia; 13^th November 2008

As often happens, just as we leave a particularly uninteresting town, things seem to improve as we pass through the suburbs, and the same can be said for Vientiane. Away from the touristy city centre there appeared to be a whole new sub-culture – the locals at work - the real life of Laos’ capital. They toil away in the “hole-in-the-wall” workshops, where for a few pennies; you could get almost anything repaired. They are the grass-roots of any civilisation, the real pulse of a country and that's what I like, not the false smile put on for the tourist, life here just goes on.

On another hot and sticky day we headed south along Highway 13 which followed the mighty Mekong River, which also formed the border with Thailand. What a change from HW13 to the north of Vientiane! This road was a wide, 2-lane highway with good tarmac, and for most of the ride towards Thakhek, not a pot hole in sight! For the first time in ages we found ourselves cruising along at 65 - 70 mph and even having to use sixth gear - now that's a novelty!

We passed through countryside where farmers were driving their single-axle, rotavator-engine powered vehicles which were either full of people or produce. I also reflected on the fact that we haven't seen many birds since our arrival in the part of Asia. There were no birds in the hedgerows and none sitting on power lines at the roadside, yet there appeared to be no shortage of butterflies! Was it Agent Orange that killed them off or perhaps ruined their food supply, or maybe they have all been eaten? Answers on a post card please!

In the corner of my eye I caught sight of a snake slithering across the road in the shade of a tree. It was huge; at least 5-foot long as I drew closer and accidentally ran over its tail. Well, by its tail I mean the last six inches of its body. It was like running over a plank of wood. I leapt into the air and out of the saddle, unplugging my communication lead as I did so; Les wondered what the heck was going on. This time I didn't stop to take a closer look because, no doubt, I had possibly really pissed it off and if one thing gives me the shivers, it is snakes!

In Thakhek we found the 'Southida' guesthouse a short distance from the Mekong River. I had the bike washed at another car wash and then we enjoyed a nice meal at a restaurant owned by an American. While here we checked out the car ferry from here to Thailand but decided to carry on a bit further south in Laos and cross via the 'Friendship Bridge at Savannakhet. This proved to be the correct choice as we had the quickest border crossing to date. With a new bridge spanning the Mekong River, new terminals built in the last couple of years and hardly anyone around; we breezed through in super quick time. On the approach to the administration buildings they cleverly swap you to the other side of the road as we will now be riding on the left again in Thailand. The immigration and customs offices are clearly signed. Our passports were stamped and we paid 20,000 kip, about £1.33p departure tax! It was then over to the customs office with my carnet which was duly stamped, although I didn’t think they weren't too sure what they were doing but nonetheless they were all very friendly. Then it was over the river and into Thailand. Here we had to fill in our immigration cards and had our passports stamped again, this time with a 30-day visa. The customs officer only took the carnet and used it to print out their version of a temporary importation certificate and duly stamped it. Without further ado we were through and into Thailand for our second time in half an hour. A few minutes later at the border town of Mukdahan we were drinking coffee with a bank manageress who also changed our remaining Kipps into Bhats and gave us a bank jacket, she was so friendly.

Back in Thailand we enjoyed the air-conditioned cool of the 7/11 stores attached to many of the petrol stations. We then followed HW 212, a brilliant, fast and smooth road all the way to Ubon Ratchathani, where with the help of a local, we found a hotel in the centre of town with WiFi, air con and a fan, and all for only £5 - happy days!   Our original plan was to ride down the complete length of Laos and cross into Cambodia but apparently the border isn’t geared up for foreigners on foreign-registered bikes so we've been told to cross into Thailand then into Cambodia. As a result of this information we followed HW226 west to Surin where there is a nearby crossing point.

The ride towards Surin took us through some very familiar countryside. We could so easily have been in the Breckland Fens area of Norfolk, England - my home county. The only difference being is that here the harvest is in full swing and it’s not wheat but rice. There are teams of people wading through the paddy fields armed with sickles and cutting the rice by hand. In stark contrast we also observed in the next field a combine harvester on caterpillar tracks scything through the crop with gusto.  Another interesting observation was that the birds are back and sitting on telegraph wires and flying around without a care in the world - the picture is at last complete!

We arrived into the small town of Surin which was swarming with small motorcycles and pedal rickshaws. We stopped to check the map when Dean turns up on a little Honda. Dean is an Australian who has lived here with his Thai wife for a few years and he kindly took us around a couple of hotels and we settled for one in the town centre. Dean informed us that there is a big ex-pat community here in Surin and they appear to frequent a bar close by! We also heard that we were a week too early for a big annual elephant festival! – Ah well.

Our bike has now clocked up a total 96000 miles which includes the mileage before we left home. All things considered she’s not doing too badly but is due for a service. On the strength of this we decided to stay an extra day here and get it done. Just around the corner from our hotel I found a Suzuki dealer and an oil shop a few doors away. The friendly and helpful Suzuki Technician, Precha let me use their workshop to change all the oils, oil filter and fuel filter. I always have difficulty getting the sump guard back on and in fact ran out of time as the shop was closing so I replaced it back at the hotel! There's got to be an easier way! The following day I completed the service with valve adjustments and adjusted a spoke! Everything else was okay.

Next day we were back on the road once again and heading south to the border with Cambodia. We were now travelling on a lovely smooth tarmac road which led us to the very quite rural frontier post at Chong Jon. The immigration and customs forms were signed and we got our Thai exit stamp and handed in the temporary import form, the official also stamped my carnet!

Next we had a short ride across 'no-mans-land' to the Cambodian side at O Smach. Here we had to get our visas, which were full page stickers in our passports and which cost us £12 each, and that was after waking the visa man up in his hammock!  Across the road we got our stamp for one month. Just down the road we found the customs office where I coach the officer into stamping the appropriate sections of my carnet and we're through!  Across the road I spied a money exchange and considered it a good idea to change the last of our Thai bhats into Cambodian reals, this proved to be unnecessary as everyone here asks for American dollars anyhow!

From the border offices we could see a short section of concrete road then a bumpy dirt road through a rubbish tip. Oh my word, this is the main road south!  For the next six hours and 100- miles we rode on one of the worst tracks since South America. Imagine a dirt track which has been carpet-bombed and you've got the idea. We also had several muddy river crossings. I wasn’t sure if it was my riding skill or just sheer luck but Les only had to jump off once when I got a bit out of control! Fortunately the rivers we had to cross were all reasonably shallow as we traversed them over several rickety bridges; the locals would gather and charge you a few cents to cross - bless them!

Ox and carts are a common sight here and everyone appears to fish in the muddy roadside rivers. As we pass little villages of wooden shacks and primitive lifestyles it is clear we are back in a relatively poor country. Anytime we stopped for a rest or to buy a drink from the track-side stalls in the villages we were usually surrounded by happy, friendly, and inquisitive people. Once again we found that the people with very little are some of the friendliest and most generous we encounter.

Back on the track I had more close encounters with several long snakes as they slithered across the road in front of us, making my toes curl.   Eventually we hit the main Highway 13 which runs from Bangkok through to Phnum Penh, Cambodia's capital. Considering the importance of this main road I was surprised things didn't get much better and the traffic became even heavier. Closer to Siem Reap there was clear evidence of road construction so perhaps one day! Covered in dust and totally spent we rode into Siem Reap and with the help of the 'Lonely Planet' guide we found the 'Shadow of Angkor' guesthouse in the middle of town and next to the river -  www.shadowofangkor.com It was a perfect setting and our timing was also perfect as our arrival coincided with the annual water festival boat races. 20-US Dollars got us a twin en-suite room with air con and fan and a balcony looking across to the river and down into the busy road filled with colourful people below us.

While in town we made time to see some of the boat races. It was an amazing and colourful spectacle as we watched long and narrow boats with teams of twenty paddling furiously for the pride of their village as crowds of people look on and cheer. Street kids in grubby clothes collect used cans and bottles and it nearly breaks my heart to see them eating the leftovers from others. I have to remind myself that I’m from a different culture, or perhaps a different planet as I observe woman beggars carrying deformed kids and see several landmine victims begging for small change. On the other end of the scale, we did meet several people who were really trying to make something of their tragic situation by selling postcards and books.

Close to our guesthouse we met a guy called Top Vanna who had lost both his hands in an explosion caused by one of the many unexploded land mines which still litter the country. Rather than turn to begging he got himself a cart and now sells books to visiting tourists. Needless to say we've now replenished our reading material and have even got our next 'Lonely Planet' guide for India! He was a great bloke and an inspiration to anyone who thinks they might have a problem!!

The main reason for staying in Siem Reap was to visit the world famous 'Angkor Wat' Temples. So, hitching a ride in a moto-rickshaw, we took the short trip to the massive temple complex of Angkor. This amazing site was built between the 9^th and 13^th centuries and was, at that time, the capital of the Khmer empire. My favourite temple was 'Ta Prohm', of  'Tomb-Raider' fame with trees slowly oozing over and engulfing the ageing buildings – as hard as I looked I couldn't find Lara Croft though!

Tomorrow we head west along the horrendous dirt road, leaving Cambodia and back into Thailand and towards Bangkok. But tonight, whist I sit on our balcony writing this piece and occasionally glance down onto the busy street full of happy people in a festive mood, I can't help but reflect on the bloody history this country has had - and in my lifetime too! It was secretly carpet-bombed during the Vietnam War. From 1975 - 1979 it was under the control of the Pol Pot regime. At the hands of the Khmer Rouge, two million Cambodian people died with many untold thousands, if not millions, mentally scared. Looking down from my vantage point you couldn't tell of the horrors of the past, thank goodness. And I say again - you think you've got a problem?

The roads might be challenging but when you meet the grass-roots people it makes it all worth while, we will be back again one day.

Until next time.  Nick.

Vientiane, Laos; 5^th November 2008

After completing the Thai/Laos border formalities we had lunch and hit the road into Laos PDR, (Peoples Democratic Republic) - our first communist country!

We had good reason to cheer as we crossed into yet another country. Even after two years and 22 of them it still gives us a buzz and a sense of achievement and anticipation of what is yet to come. Our first surprise came as we left Houei Xai and headed along Route 3 towards Luang Namtha. Here we were in one of the poorest countries in the world and yet the road was brilliant with smooth tarmac which gently wound through hills and jungle. Having said that, there was obvious damage due to landslides and we did find a few sections where half the road was missing!

I later found out that the Chinese have many interests in Laos, mainly rubber plantations and even hydroelectric power is being considered as a future project. They appear to have pumped a lot of money into the country’s infrastructure.

We're now riding on the right-hand side of the road which takes a bit of getting used too as we haven't ventured onto this side for some time! Another interesting fact as we ride across Northern Laos is our close proximity to four other countries, namely Thailand, Myanmar (Burma), China and Vietnam. This is so amazing that I have to pinch myself to confirm it’s not just a dream! I remember reading about these places at school and now we're here.

We rode through rural villages with wooden houses and dirt floors and children playing naked in muddy puddles. Chickens and healthy-looking dogs all wander around ignoring each other.

When children see us riding through their village they invariably shout, “Hello”, which sounds like, “sabatdee” in Lao. A sea of smiling faces is usually accompanied by furious waving as we smile and wave back; I don't think I have smiled and waved so much in ages!

We passed a few guys chopping at huge bamboo trunks with machetes. On their back I saw a modern looking military assault rifle, they also wave which I thought was a good sign, I also saw one of the ‘old faithful’ AK47's. I later found out that there are a few problems between several different tribes in the area and the guns were for protection and possibly a bit of hunting!

In Luang Namtha we used our trusty Lonely Planet guide and found the 'Zuela Guesthouse’ and the friendly English-speaking owners. In a beautiful wooden building we had a great room on the second floor for only 60,000 Kip, about £4! We decided to spend a few days here and formulate a bit of a plan before heading south. The following morning we were woken by what sounded like Chinese music being played over a tannoy system in the town. It was later followed by some governmental broadcast and then the power went off for the day!

There appears to be a lot of building going on in town. There appears to be no shortage of money as we observed several new pick-up trucks and of course many small motorcycles, the girls on pillion somehow managing to ride with a child strapped around her front and holding an umbrella to shade her from the sun!

We hired a couple of pedal cycles late in the day and headed out into the country following a local map along a route suggested by our landlord. After cycling through some beautiful countryside of rice paddy fields as far as the eye could see we turned off onto a small dirt track which should lead us to a main road and back to town. A short time later it became gloomy as the sun suddenly went down. We passed through remote rural villages and were met again with a friendly “sabadees” and even an English “Good Evening” which came as a bit of surprise! After riding a couple of miles through the jungle we came to a river. From the other side we only had a short ride back to town but one small problem stood in our way; the river was wide and deep but there was no bridge. Now looking somewhat perplexed a few of the local kids came to see us and figured out what we wanted to do. One little girl about six or seven years old beckoned me to follow her and her friend. While she ran around the banks of the river I saw a bamboo raft tied to the riverside. This little pint-size tot striped off her clothes and made for the raft. I was not only worried for her but us as the river had a strong current. I somehow managed to tell her that it was okay and we'll go back the way we came. The fearless gesture of this little girl trying to help a couple of ageing tourists nearly had me in tears, a moment I'll never forget.

Anyway, things went from bad to worse. It started raining as we cautiously retraced our way back along the jungle track. Here we were in a third-world country cycling through the jungle in the dark and its raining; not the most sensible thing to be doing! But, having met several of the friendly Laos people, I wasn't unduly worried, I still felt safer here in the jungle than doing the same back home. Les was great, other than the odd, “What on earth are we doing?” She navigated her bicycle down the muddy track faultlessly. One and a half hours later we arrived back safe and well to the guesthouse but were soaked to the skin, but what a buzz of excitement! We were a couple of happy wrinklies in their fifties who should have known better, it was high time for a Lao Beer! www.beer-lao.com

Another amazing thing happened to us while here in Luang Namtha. I saw a couple of backpackers looking at their map so I went across to see if I could help. They turned out to be a couple whom we met in Southern Argentina over a year ago; it really is a small world! Over dinner we caught up with each others travels.

We spent two days here but could so easily have spent two weeks but it was time to move on.

Next day we headed northeast on the 13B to Na Teuv, then southeast along the 13 to Oudom Xai. This turned out to be great road winding through the beautiful jungle-covered hills and small mountains. For the most part the road was in good repair but there were a few bad sections with pot-holes and short sections of dirt. Through every village we were met by kids all waving and saying hello. In the scruffy town of Oudom Xai we found the 'Say Lomyen' guesthouse which was equally scruffy but, at only £3.33p a night, it was perfect for our needs. We found out that in this area there are many voluntary organisations working with the local farmers trying to stop the cultivation of opium poppies and teaching them to grow something else. This illicit trade coupled with the obvious drug addiction problem placed an enormous strain on the community which could account for the rather run-down looking town.

At a nearby restaurant we met a Portuguese cyclist who we'd briefly spoken to in the last town. He was slowly cycling down through Laos alone and having a great time. The following day we met him on the road again, this time sat outside a village store with a can of Coke and a cigarette. Having just cycled over a steep relentless climb I was amazed to see that he still had enough energy left for a smile!

We headed south along the 13 to Pak Mong then the small rural road to Nong Khiaw on the River Nam Ou where we met Texan Mike on a rented trail bike. It wasn't long before we were surrounded by the village kids and out came our inflatable globe. Les carried out an impromptu geography lesson with the kids who all stood quietly and listened.

We spent another day on the twisty mountain roads using third and fourth gears most of the day. Fuel costs 65pence a litre here and, with ATMs and banks in most large towns, access to money hasn't been a problem. At 15,000 kip to the £, you tend to get a pocketful rather quickly, fortunately it is all paper money - no change!

In Nong Khiaw we found the 'Sunrise' guesthouse by the riverside. It was a very basic bamboo hut with a double bed, mosquito net and an en-suite which consisted of a shower and “hole-in-the-floor” toilet with a container of water to flush with. It was rustic, basic, comfortable and fun. At only £2.66p a night who's complaining? The restaurant over the road supplied delicious local food and was full of western tourists most of the time.

We walked up the lane a few kilometres to a massive cave where the locals took shelter during the bombings in the Vietnam War. The original bamboo ladder built in 1964 was still in situ but now there is a good staircase leading up to the mouth of the cave.

Back on the road next day we retraced our route on the 13 south and followed the River Nam Ou where the road flattened out and the riding became somewhat easier.

We passed fields where the rice was being harvested by hand with a sickle while a water buffalo wallowed in a muddy field as an elephant lethargically walked by with its mahout on its neck. “What a scene” I thought, it looked like something straight out of 'National Geographic' magazine.

In the UNESCO protected World Heritage city of Luang Prabang, we found the 'Lonely Planet recommended’, 'Cold River' guesthouse on the River Khan which is a tributary to the Mekong River only a few hundred meters away. Here we had a beautiful double room with en-suite and a balcony looking across the river for £5.33. We also enjoyed an unlimited supply of drinking water and bananas! The very friendly owners also had a restaurant serving the local Lao dishes and the delicious Lao beer which I'm developing a worrying fondness for! With the bike safely under cover in the secure car park everything was perfectly relaxed so we decided to stay a few days. The bike needed a good wash anyhow so I took it to a petrol station with a car wash with the intention of washing it myself - but oh no! For only a couple of pounds a team of lads sprung into action and, with a soapy wash, rinse, blow dry, we were ready to go in minutes!

Luang Prabang surprised me with the amount of western tourists in town. We even found restaurants owned by foreigners, the whole place was very touristy. Nestling among the many restaurants in the high street were travel agents arranging tours to several interesting sights in the area. As a result of a visit to the 'Tiger Trail outdoor Adventures' office the following day I made a new girlfriend! She weighs in at over a ton and stands twelve foot tall. She was a beautiful Asian elephant with an unpronounceable name I met at the elephant park project where retired logging elephants come to be looked after. We took an hour’s ride on her back, sat on a two-seater side by side wooden seat with our mahout sitting on her neck as she ambled through the jungle and waded through a river. I'd never before stood so close to such a massive animal as I fed her some sugar cane at the end of the ride; perhaps too close as I nearly got knocked over by her massive ear flapping. The gentle touch of her trunk as she felt for the food from such a powerful beast was unforgettable; not to mention getting slobbered on!

We are now in a county where restaurants and bars shut at 11.30pm to give their staff time get home before midnight when the loosely-enforced curfew starts and where the minimum wage is only 8000 kip, about 53pence a day. With the average yearly wage at only £350 it is truly thought-provoking.

Back on the road again we headed south on the 13 to Phou Khoun then east on the 7 to Phonsavan. We rode through even more spectacular green mountain scenery. Several areas were treeless revealing postage-stamp size fields hanging onto the sides of the steep hills. Leaving the hills behind us we found ourselves in even more treeless flatlands planted predominantly with grass and low shrubs. We had now arrived at Phonsavan in the province of Xieng Khuang. Once again, with the help of the Lonely Planet guide, we found the 'Kong Keo' guesthouse which was rustic but comfortable - www.kongkeojar.com  In town we visited the, 'MAG' office, the Mines Advisory Group with their HQ in England; here we found some horrendous statistics. During the Vietnam War years 1964 to 73, Laos, and particularly this area, was the most heavily bombed nation in the world per capita with at least two million tonnes of ordinance dropped on them. About thirty percent of these didn't explode which to this day is still killing and maiming people regularly. So as you could imagine the good people from MAG have their work cut out. Visit their website at - www.maginternational.org 

On a happier note, we also visited 'Site 1' of 3, of the 'Plain of Jars', several acres of massive stone jars between 1-3 meters tall and weighing a tonne. It is not known exactly what they were used for or how they were spread over such a large area. The most feasible explanation is that they were funeral jars into which remains were placed, a bit like stone coffins; but this is only a theory. While we walked around the site we were constantly reminded to keep between the marker posts as only this area had been swept for mines!

From Phons Avan we retraced our steps to Phou Khoun and had a play with a very sportingly ridden 650 Honda with a French couple on tour. Stopping for lunch in a village we found out they had hired the bike here and had come from India, our next country, there they had toured on a Royal Enfield!

Leaving the cool of the mountains we descended south along the 13 to the heat of Vang Vieng, a centre for water sports and extremely touristy. We stayed at the 'Dokkhun 1' guesthouse where the receptionist and maid were totally uninterested in us. I think this just reflected the town’s money-oriented touristy nature with neon flashing lights and the “Kiss-me-quick” hat type of thing! Not my cup of tea.

Next day we carried on south along the 13 and rode to the country’s capital city, Vientiane. As we drew closer to the capital the road surface became surprisingly worse and with the recent rain we had several muddy sections to negotiate and slowly paddle our way through.

In Vientiane on the banks of the Mekong River we found the ‘Lonely Planet recommended’ 'Syri 1' guesthouse. It was tired and tatty looking but fine for a couple of nights in the capital. Vientiane is a strange city, a border town with Thailand on the other side of the river and it reflected this border town character rather than a neat and tidy capital with a certain degree of pride in its appearance.

Today we clocked up 81,000 miles for the adventure so far in the two years four months we've been away. I’m not sure if it’s the weather or this gloomy town that has got me down, or is it just me? But at the moment I’m feeling a bit burnt-out and tired. Perhaps I'm giving an ageing mind too much mental stimulation too late and it is time to be heading home and have a rest? We started this 'Global Trek' with a simple ambition to ride a motorcycle around the world but it evolved into something so much bigger. I personally feel that we could forget our universities and higher education until we are much older and travel the world while you are still young. With an open and flexible mind, it has to be one of the best forms of education available – the University of Life.

Well dear reader it’s not over yet, we still have a long way to go, but perhaps we'll push on and “Head West Young Man'. I think it’s time to go home, but on the bike of course!

Until next time, Nick.

Luang Namtha, Laos; 25^th October 2008.

Whilst in Chiang Mai we managed to get a few jobs done, met some very interesting people and prepared for our next country - Laos.

It has taken nearly 80,000 miles before we've managed to instil some degree of comfort in our bike’s saddle! Gone are the tack-on, tatty looking but practical Air Hawk saddle covers. I wasn’t too perturbed mind you as mine had a puncture anyhow! John, from the 'Jonadda' guesthouse took us in his sidecar to a hole-in-the-wall upholster situated in the back streets of Chiang Mai where we met the “artist with foam plastic”! He had a big project on at the moment rebuilding several 'tuk tuk' seats but would fit us in ASAP. To make things easier he produced the saddle off a Harley Davidson. He would then sculpt our existing foam saddle and bond it with the Harley one to create something really special and which would suit our requirements perfectly. Les had always wanted to be able to see more scenery over my shoulders. We would now have something unique - a “King and Queen” saddle on a BMW GS - A first perhaps? We collected the saddle after a couple of days and wow! It was now much taller at the back for Les but I fear she'll now need a step ladder to climb onboard! The stitching and general workmanship of the saddle was brilliant, but more importantly, it used softer foam which should be kinder to our backsides, and all for only 800bht, about £13.55!

We later met ‘Mr GT-Rider.com’, David Unkovich in a small bar. David, an Australian who's lived in Thailand for several years and has published a map covering Lao, amongst others, had just returned after several weeks in the country gleaning information for his guide book. He had just got off his Honda Africa Twin for dinner when we arrived. In between mouthfuls of dinner he passed on valuable information on this little-known country we were about to explore. He was a mine of very useful information and a great bloke to talk with. Check out the site at www.gt-rider.com for more information.

Always in search of live music, we visited the 'Guitar Man' bar in Chiang Mai and enjoyed an entertaining evening listening to our host. John was playing guitar and singing with his band as they played a selection of rocky, bluesy numbers while we quaffed a few beers and tapped feet and fingers in harmony!

We both liked Chiang Mai a lot, as did many other ex pats who have settled here, most with Thai wives on their arms. Because of this obvious multi-culturism I wasn't too surprised to see volunteer English policeman with small Union Jack badges on their uniforms and working with the local community.

With the obvious benefits of a comfortable city, a BMW bike dealer and some of the best motorcycling roads we'd seen in a long time, this could be a place to return to for a long-term stay at a later date; and with a studio apartment costing only £144 a month, it was also very tempting.

We spent a pleasant six days here now but Laos was beckoning and it was once again time to move on.

Winding our way north on Highway118 to Chiang Rai we found to our pleasure that the saddle was excellent. Gone is that bum-numbing feeling of sitting on a board, now we're riding on a cushion. The only problem is that Les now has to engage in a gymnastic exercise to get onto her much-taller saddle! I now have a definite ridge to push the back of my bum into, a comforting feeling much like the hump on a racing bike!

Just north of Mea Chan we turned east onto the 1016 and followed a bumpy, pot-holed rural road through beautiful hilly countryside which ran alongside the mighty Mekong River and south to the border town of Chiang Khong. Here we found the riverside 'Baan Pak Pon' guesthouse where we had a room for £5. With the aid of modern technology we phoned our boys and Eddie whilst the sun set and the lights from Laos twinkled invitingly across the Mekong, life doesn’t get much better than this.

The following morning we rode to the ferry terminal to cross the river into Laos. The ferry terminal was interesting in that it had a muddy riverside bank for foot passengers and a crumbling concrete slope for vehicles! The Thai immigration exit was easy enough; a quick exit stamp in our passports and hand in our departure cards. Mind you, the queue was long with backpackers and local tourists wanting to cross the Mekong on the narrow boats to connect with a slow boat downstream. Next door was the Customs Office where I handed over my carnet to exit the bike. The official looked blankly at the booklet but after a bit of pointing and going through charades of stamping and signatures I gained the important stamps and signatures where I needed them! We are happy to report that the Thai border procedure was completed in one hour and no money changed hands. I then found the ferry organisers sitting in the shade who told me that for 500 bht, about £8.33p, they'd get us across the river. I watched as a few barges had unloaded returning empty petrol tankers from Laos. I asked again about our crossing only to be told that my barge was coming later! Another barge arrived with even more lorries and the deckhands waved us aboard, but the man I had employed said “No”, I was beginning to think there was a bit of a scam going on here! A short time later a small barge arrived and, together with one other car, we boarded after descending the slippery concrete slope and climbing the equally slippery metal ramp onto the deck. Fifteen minutes later we were riding off and into Laos, our 22nd country on the trek so far.

Border formalities differ from country to country and finding the necessary offices sometimes proves quiet difficult, especially when there are no signs. Once we landed at the Laos town of Houei Xai I rode up the slope from the river, under the barrier and parked on the left of the road in the shade. I have found through experience that when there is no sign and I ride under an obvious barrier it usually draws some attention. True to form, a man ran across the road and pointed us to an office he wished me to visit. Here we found a scruffy man who looked at our passports asked for 100 bht, about £1.60p and issued us a receipt - I haven't got a clue who he was or what it was for! He then pointed me to the police office. A smart policeman checked our passports and gestured that we had to go to the neighbouring town where the passenger boats land for immigration but the bike had to be processed here. I found the Customs Office after being bounced from one office to another with no one appearing to know what to do with me. I ended up back in the first office I had visited and I handed over my carnet. I had heard that not all countries would accept this document and Laos was one of those who had their own procedure but, to my surprise, the official took the carnet and once again with my help we completed the form at a cost of 200 bht, about £3.30p. I then returned to the Police office where details were written in a ledger and we were all completed in half an hour.

We then rode on the right hand side of the road to the next town and the passenger immigration office. We found their office no problem and completed our entry cards, visa application forms and handed over a passport photograph. A few minutes later we had a full-page and colourful visa stamp in our passport and parted with $35 US, about £20 each for the privilege; mind you, it was not over yet. We had to visit another hatch where we had another stamp in the passport showing date of entry and, more importantly, our exit date - we only had one month. It may sound an overly complicated and bureaucratic border-crossing procedure but we were processed quite painlessly, and more importantly – stress free.

A short time later we escaped the fierce midday heat and enjoyed lunch while we pondered over the fact that we had just completed 80,000 miles and had arrived in our 22nd country in just under two years and four months! I looked across our plates of fried rice at Les and pointed out that fact to which she said, “And I'm having a lovely time”. We were both having the time of our lives!

Until next time, Nick.

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