Laos Part 1

Its a long boring ride north from Chiang Mai to the Laos border, not helped by stopping in Chiang Rai to see if I could get any chain lube which wasted a good hour. I checked in about 10 bike shops, none of which had any chain lube with most suggesting an equivalent of WD40. I arrived in Chiang Khong by the Mekong river around 4pm and hoped I could get across the river, get the paperwork done and make some miles till sundown but its never that easy. Getting across the river involved paying 500THB, taking all my luggage off and letting a gang of teenagers tug and yank the bike into a narrow motor boat. I spotted an actual ferry crossing over so I said I'd rather it went on that one however I was quickly informed that that ferry was for trucks and cars only and would cost 2,500THB. Sometime I just wish I did a little bit more research so I don't get shafted so much. So, somehow, we get across the river and I'm dumped onto a muddy bank to sort the bike and luggage out while being stared at by a bunch of truckers.

As soon as I start riding, they're at it again, this time driving straight at me instead of just weaving between sides of the road. And then I remember that they drive on the right side of the road here...oops. I eventually find the Immigration office and have to stump up 1,500THB for the Laos Visa. With filling up the tank twice today, this is fast becoming the most expensive day yet. I'm also informed that Customs have buggered off for the day so I need to stay here in Huay Xai and get the bike paperwork done in the morning. Wandering around the town, I meet a couple of posh English lads straight out of school who have decided they are going to buy motorbikes here and ride around. They haven't got the faintest idea what they're doing however. I also notice just how patronising some of the tourists are to the locals and overhear such gems as 'oh, your English is sooo good, well done'. The hotel I end up in is run (if you can call it that) by a man lying on his back watching a totally blaring TV set from where he yells various orders to people.

I get the bike cleared ok the following morning and Customs even want to check the engine/frame numbers which doesn't happen often. The backpackers here mostly take a boat for 2 days down the Mekon river till Luang Prabang however that sounds like hell as you're only alloted a tiny space to occupy for the duration. I planned on riding untill I got to Luang Prabang however find out that despite the initial section of road being quite fast and new till near the China border, further on however the road just gets too bad to make any decent time on. I came across 4 huge elephants being riden along the road but every time I got close to take a picture, the one at the rear wanted to turn around and looked like it was getting freaked. At the turn off for the road to China, it started raining very heavily so I popped in to a restaurant to shelter. It was about lunchtime and figured if I was going to be here for a while I might as well eat but the entire family were glued to a TV watching a movie on DVD and finding it far more amusing than bothering to serve anyone. Eventually a woman got up and started cooking so I figured I might get something now, but once she'd finished, she dished it out to the family and they all started scoffing it up.

Having given up any more thoughts of lunch, I decided to ride up to the China border to have a little look though it really started chucking it down once again and I was torn between turning around or keeping going. I sheltered under a narrow bridge of a Chinese Cigarette factory for a while but decided I might as well get wetter and carry on as it wasn't too far. As I got nearer, every sign was in Chinese and before the border, there were lots of shops with trucks queuing up on the road. I spied a booth to my left with several uniformed officials inside and rode closer. There was a barrier in front of me and the guys in the booth were shouting at me to park and walk over but I rode over to them much to their annoyance as I was soaking wet. One of them shouted at me for my passport but I explained that I didn't want to go to China, just take a look at the border. He then said something along the lines of "fucking tourist" and told me to get lost.

Thankfully the rain eventually died out as I resumed my journey south but the road conditions got worse. Instead of nice wide tarmac, there was now narrow roads which looked like the Sommne on a bad day with potholes the size of the Lochnagar Crater. Ok I'm exaggerating a little but it was pretty hard going especially with vehicles swerving all over the place trying to avoid the potholes in the road, animals taking a liking to my front wheels, loose gravel etc. I only get as far as Oudomxay having covered 330kms in 6 hours and after finding its more of the same for another 4 hours, decide to call it a night there.

Once again, I manage to get a room in a hotel run by an obnoxious twat watching TV horizontally. Its actually not a bad room but its the fact that 2L of fuel have disappeared from my tank the following morning that particularly ticks me off. The day doesn't get much better though. About an hour into the run, I was approaching a corner when 2 guys on a moped came round it towards me on my side of the road. I had a split second to react but it wasn't enough time to get out his way. The moped hit my left side and I felt something impact my boot and then I managed to come to a stop. I looked round seeing the two guys about 25m way on the other side of the road with bits of bike all over the place. I put the sidestand down, got off and marched up to the rider and gave him a total bollocking. Despite my Lao being a bit rusty, I believe he got the message that I wasn't best pleased with him and suggested that maybe he ought to stay on his own side of the road in future. I'd had a quick look at my bike and bizarrely I couldn't see any damage, though the sole of my left boot had detached form the upper so I wasn't best pleased. I looked at the moped and saw that the metal basket was bent to hell and had gone into the headlight, the full left side of the fairing was off and the gear pedal was now facing the wrong way- had my foot done that? I was glad I was wearing my boots even if one of them was now wrecked. I figured my knee must have done the rest even though I couldn't feel any pain, maybe the knee protection had saved it? surveying the damage, I actually felt sorry for the moped rider despite it being his fault. I saw him trying to bend his gear pedal back with a rock so I gave him my mole grips which soon had it facing the right way. Amazingly the bike still seemed to work and he rode it around testing it. I gave them a handful of zip ties to hold the rest of the stuff on, we shook hands and I left them to it. I figure after my similar accident in Acapulco and now this, two of my lives are up and now need to be doubly careful on these roads. Later on, a chicken made a bee line for my front wheel but I figured that I wasn't pulling any evasive maneuvers on this road- unfortunately I saw a few feathers in my mirror.

Thailand Part 3

Feeling pleased with myself for not giving in to the cops, I head on to Kanchanaburi, home of the famous Bridge over the River Quai. At first, I think I'm looking at the wrong bridge as it's really not that impressive and then realise that I must be thinking of the one in the movie which is a bit bigger. After a walk along the bridge (which is still in use) I take a look at the wonderfully inappropriate tourist tat for sale which includes ninja throwing stars, guns that are lighters, huge knives etc. I'm staying at the Jolly Frog hostel which is a really nice place by the river and incredibly cheap at 70THB a night. I end up staying a few days and check out Hellfire Pass, a couple of hours away which was one of the tougher cuttings the POWs had to contend with. I hadn't realised that it was mainly Korean guards who dished out most of the abuse to the POWs as they were on the bottom rung of the power ladder within the Japanese army.

The people I meet at the hostel are also good value though its too easy to lay about in hammocks with a beer in hand so after 3 days, decide to move on to Mae Sot further north. It take a couple of days to get there as I stopped at Erawan Falls on the way up. There are 7 waterfalls in all to see, each higher than the other and it soon becomes apparent that I'm just not dressed for this kind of activity and get out of my bike trousers and boots and go for a swim. I stop off in Don Chang as it was getting dark and there didn't seem to be too much else around. I find the only hotel in the place and go out to eat at the street stalls finding one that does a tasty soup and end up having two bowls. While I'm eating, locals come by with elephants and sugar cane which they want to sell you to feed to the elephants. Its an unusual dinner distraction, I'll give it that.

The following day, I make it up to Mae Sot and get to meet a few other biker travelers staying there. They are all doing volunteer work with the Burmese refugees. I'd wondered what the road blocks were that I'd been seeing and it turns out that they're for catching escaped Burmese, after which they are rounded up, put in a van with a cage on the back and driven back to Burma. I stayed here a few days catching up on things including doing my valve clearances. As it was the first time I'd done it on this bike, I completely stuffed it up, resetting the clearance on the wrong stroke making the bike sound like a bag of spanners falling downstairs. I give up for the day and redo it again early the following morning, this time doing it right. Well you live and learn eh?I head off towards Mae Hong Son getting a bit lost on the way. I found out I had to retrace my route to get back on the right road but I spotted a small dirt road which looked as though it was heading in the right direction. It turned out to be a great wee road with some lovely scenery plus it got me back on the right track. The road there is pretty twisty in places so it takes the whole day to get there but despite having to redo the valves this morning, I still make it before dark. Thanks to Peter in Mae Sot, I have some new maps and waypoints installed on my GPS and its easy to find Friends Guest House when I arrive. I'm glad meticulous people like Peter exist as I'd be far too lazy to deal with all the techno stuff that goes with using a GPS. The next day, I ride to a Long Neck Karen village about 25kms away. The women fit brass rings to their necks and it gradually pushes the collarbone downwards giving the impression of having a longer neck. Its interesting to see but like most of these things, they're there to make a loving off tourists and the village is taken over by stalls selling jewelry and handcrafts.



My last stop in Thailand before Laos is Chiang Mai and again as I'm still in the hills, the road twists and turns all the way. I'm finding that I'm getting completely knackered by the end of a days riding and have to crash out on the bed for a couple of hours. I guess its a combination of the concentration of trying to stay alive on the roads and the heat. I meet John, the Aussi owner of the hotel I'm staying at who tells me about the accusations of bribery and all the corruption they had to deal with to get the place built. Unfortunately John is a former maintenance engineer who thinks he can also design plumbing systems- lets just say after my first test, the system failed...

Chaing Mai is a fairly lively place with a good music scene so I was able to take in a few good bands. I met Tak, who is a partner of one of the establishments here who's a great guitar player and it turns out, he used to study in Edinburgh back in the late 80's. He even remembers my favorite haunt of the time, The Preservation Hall where one could watch some great blues acts till the bastards sold out and turned it into an Irish theme bar. Walking to the food markets is no easy feat here either as you have to run the gauntlet past the girlie bars and lady boys so it certainly makes you walk with a certain sense of purpose!

Bangkok

Now I had planned on leaving Bangkok until I'd finished my loop around Thailand/Laos/Cambodia but I was curious to see if indeed there were any parts for the bike as I'd been assured and also to enquire about a Pakistan visa. I decided to buy a Bangkok street map before entering the city to give me a head start and I already had an address for a shop that might have some parts. While I stopped at a service station for lunch, I tried asking a few locals where this address might be on the map. About 20 minutes later, they were still 'umming' away tracing virtually every single street with their fingers despite seeming to imply they knew the area it was in. I had to give up on them despite another local outside doing exactly the same thing. Amazingly I did find the place after crawling along various sections of motorway and being sent back from a toll road as bikes aren't allowed. Anyway, my new knowledgable friends in the shop informed me that everything had to be ordered in, from either Singapore or even Japan. I was told what i wanted would take over a month an even then, he couldn't be sure. My new plan is to get an address in Bangkok and have some parts sent over from Australia which will hopefully arrive by the time I get back there in a few weeks time.

While i was still in the mood for more hassle, I decided to try and get to the UK Embassy to see if I could get a Letter of Non Objection to use for my Pakistan visa application but by the time i got there, they were closed. I sat outside the gates getting barked at by the security guards for a while and then decided to brave the frankly horrendous traffic again to find somewhere to stay and come back tomorrow. I'd been told that the backpacker places were around somewhere called Khaosan Road and commnenced a pretty awful ride through the black fumes and solid traffic with the only things seeming to move being hundreds of small mopeds squeezing through the smallest of gaps to the front of the queues. I figured I must be in the right place when I stumbled upon the most touristy street I think I've ever seen in my life. It was basically a pedestrian street filled with European, British, Australian and North American backpackers plus seemingly hundreds of thumping bars, food stalls and tour agents. "Sweet", I grumbled as I commenced riding into the middle of all this mayhem to find somewhere to stay. By total chance in one of the first allys I rode into, I found a shipping agents office so I nipped in and after asking if they'd fly the bike to Kathmandu, I grabbed their details. This street looked more or less like my idea of hell at this point in time and after deciding that there was no way I'd be leaving the bike anywhere near here, I eventually found a place a few streets away for 150Bt for a shoebox with a shared bathroom but it did have secure parking at least. As is the generaly way of these things, after a cheap dinner from the food stalls, I ended up in a bar with a couple of Dutch and American guys and spent way too much on booze in the same street that was my idea of hell only a few hours ago.

Feeling like shit the following morning, I wisely decided to take a cab back the UK Embassy but found out they'd only 'certify' a copy of my passport for 1600Bt. I walked over to the Pakistan Embassy a few streets away to check if that would suffice and eventually got to speak to the guy behind the glass screen. He took quite a lot of glee in informing me that I had a snowballs chance in hell of getting a Pakistan tourist visa there because I had to either be resident in Thailand or alternativelly I could just nip back to the UK to get it. Again, no amount of foot stamping was going to help and I extracted myself from the office to figure out my next move. Bangkok it seems is only good for certain things, none of which I was looking for. The best thing I found to do at night was to eat cheap green curry for 30Bt (50p) from the street stalls and then sit with a beer someplace and watch the people go by- tourists, locals, TW's, nerds straight out of school and people on their own like myself who were all pretending to be thoroughly enjoying the book they'd brought with them to dinner. I didn't bother bringing a book though as it was much more enjoyable people watching.

I decided that there wasn't much more I could do here and set off the next morning for Kanchanaburi where the Kwai river bridge is. But as soon as i got onto the right road out of town, I was pulled by 3 cops on bikes. One spoke a bit of English and took over the proceedings. Basically i shouldn't be on that road despite me asking the way to Kanchanaburi and him pointing in the direction I'd been riding. He flashed a ticket in Thai at me but suggested we could deal with this now for 1000Bt. I decided long ago I wasn't getting fucked about by crooked cops again and refused telling him there was no sign to say bikes weren't allowed but that I knew they wern't allowed on toll roads, which this one wasnt'. He then came down to 500Bt, a sure sign of desperation of a bent copper if ever there was one. I still refused to budge and explained I was a tourist and appologised for for my dreadful mistake. He was obviously bored by this point and waved me on so I smiled and shook his hand.

And if you don't want to know the scores, look away now:

Overlander 1 - Bent coppers 0

Thailand Part 2

A funky young monk

I decided I needed to do a bit of bike maintenence before leaving Kra Buri and found a bit of space at a garage where I could do an oil change. Again, it was hard work explaining to the staff what I wanted to do but they ultimately got the idea and brought over a plastic carton I could drain the oil into. Unfortunately I don't yet have all the tools i need and had to remove the entire bash plate assembly to get at the drain screw and that was fun in the heat and humidity.

I stuck to the main road north on the east coast until I hit Prachaub Khiri Khan which immediately looked like somewhere to stay for a couple of nights. It wasn't touristy and was actually hard to spot any hotels. I found a place called Yuttichai which had secure parking and was cheap at 170Bt (about 3GBPs) for a room with fan and shared bathroom. The wasn't much on the esplanade but I found a nice little restaurant and got some bloody good Pad Thai noodles. The following morning over breakfast, I was reading the Bangkok Post and enjoyed a story about the deposed King of Nepal. It was about how the government was now chasing the former king to give back the crown, jewels and property. The article stated that "some people just find it hard to accept change" which I quite liked.

I walked up to the temple at the top of Mirr Mount to the north of the town where the place was completely overrun by monkeys, hundreds of them. Some people at the bottom were selling food so you could feed them which I didn't entirely agree with but despite this, some European tourists were busy throwing corn at the monkeys and jumping back every time one snarled at them. About halfway up the stairs to the temple, I had to go through a narrow sheltered constuction which was itself teeming with the fun creatures. There were mums, dads and young 'uns all over it and squezzing through the middle of this lot was kind of scary. Further up, one was sitting on the handrail looking at me and I went up to it to say hello when it bared its teeth and snarled at me. Sweet.

Erm, so I just need to walk through that lot now...

I also rode to the land border with Burma to the west of PKK, taking in a lot of dirt roads on the way just for fun (I wasn't actually lost, I was just erm, 'exploring'...). I was told there was a nice temple there but never saw it, only the markets set up around the border post where the Burmese can come and sell goods.

Irritatingly, a Burma border that I'm not actually allowed through

Thailand Part 1

Being slightly new to these Carnet things and having to do a border crossing on my own, I was a little nervous. As it tuned out, I somehow successfuly got my Carnet stamped out of Malaysia and entered into Thailand using their own Temporary Import paperwork as Carnets are not necessary there. Despite a bit of pushing and shoving from impatient locals behind me in the queue, I managed to find myself in Thailand and even had the correct paperwork and everything.

Elephants- brilliant!

Straight off, the scenery was (in my opinion) a bit nicer than Malaysia but also noticed 3 car wrecks so figured the driving standards aren't neccessarily going to be any better. I also noticed a lot of pick-up truck busses in use, something I saw a lot of in Guatemala. I rode to Ao Nang near Krabbi as it had been mentioned as a nice place to stay. I obviously hadn't been listening as it was basically a just base for visiting several nearby islands including that one they filmed 'The Beach' at, a film full of TWs if ever there was one. I decided that I didn't like the place immediately as the main street was lined with tour operators, taxi touts, thumping bars and overpriced restaurants. After getting a general hassling (motorbike sir, motorbike sir?? No thanks, I've already got one), being grabbed by the local ladies propping up the bar (or maybe they were 'laddies') that I thought was a restaurant plus a few 'Best of British' elements, I decided I would be heading off the following morning. As I'd ridden into Krabbi before it got dark, the sunset had some of the best colours I've ever seen though so I guess it probably wasn't all bad.

DR staring wistfully at Burma over the river

I was intent on covering some miles the following day and had intended on stopping at a what looked like a reasonably sized place called Raub. It actually turned out to be very reminiscent of the dodgy area we were taken to in Cartagena where we were warned to be on our guard just to look at the roughest, most unseaworthy supply boat I'd ever seen. Well this place looked similar but smelt slightly worse. As I still had a bit of daylight left, I followed a sign to the Burmese viewpoint, basically a little jetty from which you could see Burma on the other side of the river. In fact it looked quite similar to the side I was standing on. I briefely toyed with the idea of paying a guy with a boat to take the bike over like I did from Guatemala to Mexico and then realised that the repercusions would likely be fairly severe and quickly dropped the idea. As usual, it was now getting dark and I couldn't find a gas station so was running on fumes plus the 1/2 litre I had in my stove bottle. Just as panic began to set in and imagined running out of fuel in the hills at night, I finally arrived in Kra Buri after dark and expecting to resume the same tired routine of searching for somewhere not totally horrible to stay. I'd spied a sign on the way into town for Cabanas and these turned out to be really nice and clean and just what I needed at that moment. Sometimes it's like that.

Sorry lads, but size DOES matter!

Dinner that night was fairly interesting. I rode to a small place which was obviously the front part of the family house. As I walked in, there were several groups sat at tables with some decent looking food and soon I was trying to explain what I wanted to eat. I did my usual chicken impersonation and a nifty version of a stirfry but what they actually did was soup. Soon, a bucket of hot coals was brought to my table and inserted in the hole in the middle (I moved my legs back slightly at this point), then something that looked like a huge partially inverted collander was placed on top. Then bowls of raw meat, veg and stock were placed on the table. How it works is like this; stock and veg are placed in the trough around the edge of the bowl and in the middle, the strips of pork (it was definitely a chicken I impersonated) were placed on the middle section with the holes in. After the meat has cooked, you ladel the stock and cooked veg into your bowl and then add the meat and however much chili you fancy. And you just go on, adding more stock, veg, chili and meat until you're done. Oh, and it was delicious too.

Northward bound

After the last few days, I decided it was high time to get out of KL. I even looked in to getting a visa for Pakistan here but it would take several days and mean staying till after the weekend. I was told there I could get one no problem though but figured (to my cost as I later found out) I'd just get it in Bangkok.

So, in a move reminiscent of leaving Rio Gallegos in Argentina (where I got a sheared fork as I was desperately trying to leave), as soon as I got my passport back with my Indian visa, I left KL around 4.30pm. Keen to make some miles, I rode through heavy rain and into the dark, finaly stopping in Taiping. I noticed that all the garages had queues reaching round the blocks and wondered what was up. A local chap on a scooter called Roslee helped me find some accommodation (though unfortunately it was a bit of a dump with a shower that didn't work) explained that the Malaysian government were putting the fuel price up by 41% overnight. For me, it was already pretty cheap at 1.92RM/L (about 30p) but it hit the local pockets pretty hard. A week or so later, I was reading an article in the Bankok Post about the price hike and in order to quell the increasing local anger, the Malaysian government ministers selflessly offered to cut their entertainment budget by 10%... I hadn't been feeling totally terrific the last few days and the stuff I saw in the night market made me want to gag (black eggs which I believe are partly formed embrios or something) so I'll admit opting for KFC on this ocassion for my dinner.

Draining my 'waterproof' boots after a little shower

I'd intended on riding to Penang, having a quick look round then maybe hitting the Thai border that same day. Instead, I got chatting to Lim on a huge BMW 1200 at some traffic lights. It turned out, Lim ran the BMW Motorrad shop in Georgetown and he invited me to come to the shop. Despite my bikes nimble size, it was no mean feat trying to keep up with Lim on the 1200 through the traffic. Finally we pulled up outside a pristine air conditioned BMW shop and at Lims behest, I was soon helping myself to chilled water and free sandwiches. After giving me recomendations on what to see in Thailand, he showed me the way into town to a very nice guest house called Blue Diamond and promised to return with some spare parts for my bike. Unfortunately as it turned out, the nice new K&N air filter he gave me was for an earlier model DR so didn't fit however the spare clutch cable does appear to fit and he also goave me a long sleaved top with his local club logo which I thought would be perfect for riding in the sun instead of my heavy jacket.

Nice colours during Penang sunset

Luckily, this time the accommodation tip was a good one despite there being one or two TW's (Travelwank (noun): bongo banging, didgeriedoo blowing, dreadlocked, fire dancing erm 'traveler' type who will say things like "uh man, you were like soooo ripped off paying 70p for a room'') who persisted in attempting to 'fire dance' in the garden. The main entertainment though was provided by Mr Leg who sang and played guitar on the purpose built stage they had there. Leg cut a mean figure, tall with a long black mullet hairstyle, skintight jeans, rock 'n roll spangly belt and a waistcoat. He sung hunched over his guitar and sounded not totally unlike Captain Beefheart. Such was his original style that it was around 2 minutes into the first song when I finally realised it was actually Rod Stewart's 'I am sailing' that he was singing. The following night, there was a jam happening with a few other locals turning up and Leg asked me if I wanted to join in. I actually did, but was still feeling a little rough so opted out. It turned out to be a nice night and also Leg's birthday to which he sang 'Happy Birthday to Me' and his young daughter handed out cake to everybody.

"It's a lovely room, don't get me wrong, but do you

maybe have anything a little more, erm, 'hardcore'?"

Goodbye old friend

We all have bad days I guess and travelling is no exception. This post is a wee example for all those people who think riding round the world is just a huge lark involving sitting on nice beaches, drinking lots and chasing ladies.

Back in KL, I started my day by first riding to the Indian Consulate to generaly annoy the staff and see how my visa was coming on only to be told to keep checking their website as they didn't seem to know much at all, so from there I deposited myself in an internet cafe for a few hours. After I'd been there about 3 hours, I tried the Indian visa site once again and to my delight I saw the little reference number I'd been given last week now had todays date next to it indicating my visa had at last been approved.

Hotfooting it round to the Consulate again with vivid plans in my mind of leaving KL that very afternoon and hitting the highway north to Thailand, I presented my passport expecting a nice colourful stamp to be put in only to be told that if I left it with them, it would be ready after 4.30pm, THE FOLLOWING DAY. Not to be outdone, I suggested surely they could just wheek out their big rubber stamp and I'd be on my merry way but alas it was not to be, Indian beuocracy was in full control here and there was no getting around it no matter how much I whined and stamped my foot.

Right on cue, as soon as I left the consulte, this being Malaysia it started completely pissing it down so I stopped off at the fancy Petronas Mall to get out the torrential rain and maybe take in a movie but immediately felt scruffy next to all the clean and nicely ironed shoppers. Seeing that there were no movies taking my fancy, once the rain abated, I then tried the Times Square mall, much the same but without the huge sparkly towers above. Parking the bike outside next to all the other bikes, I stuck my helmet in the helmet lock and took a wander inside. Still not being temped with seeing ''Kung Foo Panda'', I manged to find myself a good Rough Guide (they're great as they are tough and waterproof) map of India seeing as I was now going there, and after a quick flick through some books, went out to get the bike. When I was about 20m away, that's when I noticed something wasn't right- my helmet wasn't there...

2 Strap buckles- All that remained of my Arai Tour X...

''Fuck! Fucking fuckity fuck fuuuuuuck!!!'' I said, mainly to myself but also to anyone else unfortunate enough to be in my immediate vicinity. The strap had been cut and all that remained were two metal hoops still attached to the helmet 'lock'. I began to wonder who was more stupid, me for not looping my bike lock through the helmet (as I normally do) or the bloody thief for stealing a helmet that will hopefully come off in an accident and smash his wee brain in. So I was standing next to my bike that I now can't ride in the middle of town thinking of my next move when it came to me. Another HUBB regular had offered to meet me for coffee the previous night but we'd just missed each other and I still had his number on me. A quick call which swallowed up the last of my change got me through to Radzi who worked nearby, and what seemed like only 10 minutes later, a guy on a Honda Dominator cruised past the coffee shop I was sitting outside and before I knew it, I now had a borrowed helmet.

Radzi saves the day!

After we'd introduced ourselves, Radzi suggested trying a shop near his house which might do a cheap MX helmet but first we had to go to evening prayers. Well actually he did, I just stood outside the mosque and had a peek in at the proceedures going on inside. The place we went to unfortunatelly didn't have anything I wanted but Radzi suggested a place in town he knew which I would try the next day. I ended up getting another helmet for 500RM (about 80quid) which I could really done with not spending that kind of money but while I was in the shop, I learned that they actually sell 2nd hand helmets here and even had an old Arai going for 1000RM amazingly enough. The shop keeper assured me that the thief would be able to get another strap fitted but I still really hope it comes off.

Perhentian

As with most of the islands I seem to go to, I hadn't actually planned on going there first. When I arrived in Kuala Besar, I was pestered by a few boat drivers asking what time was I going to the islands and after speaking to Ali and Liz, I decided just to go for it as I was in no rush to get back to Kl before my Indian Visa had been granted. I stored my bike for 5rm a day and the rest of my luggage I wouldn't need at my hotel, while the hotel owner urged my to jump on the back of his Honda C90 as the boat was leaving any minute and he speedily rode to the jetty with me as his bitch!

Once on the small island and against my friends recommendations, I took the first place I found as it was cheap at 25rms but you can probably see why- It reminded me of a serial killers woodshed:

The following night, I changed my abode and moved to the place Ali had mentioned and although it was twice the price, it was far more pleasant being right on the beach.



Perhintian is a quite beautiful little island though slightly over populated with European backpackers, most of whom seemed to be blond, Swedish couples and as such I didn't really meet anyone while here, however it was a nice place to just sit and read and swim in the clear warm water.

My private view for 50rm a night

After only a couple of nights however, I grew a little restless and headed off the following morning to ride to 600kms back to KL just in case my Indian visa had been granted early- it hadn't.

Going for a ride, Malaysian style

Petronas Towers- Quite stunning at night

I quickly applied for an Indian Visa which takes 5 working days (I would highlight that the consul on Jln Duta is NOT where you apply for visas, go instead to 44 Jln Ampang, fairly near the twin towers (see above- you really can't miss them)).

Now that I have my bike back, I decided to go explore some of the east side of Malaysia for a few days and took off to check it out.

And then it rained. Really rained....

Once the lightening storm cleared up, I rode on up to Fraser Hill where you need to time it right as due to the single track road going up the hill, the trafic only flows one way according to the time of day. The cheapest accommodation I can find there is basically my entire daily budget so after a quick look around, I head back down and stop at a place called Raub and get a basic room for 55Rm. I get chatting to a local while I'm waiting on some food later that night who insists I must be couragous and very rich to ride around the world. I guess he's correct though I don't know about the couragous part, I think you just have to get on with it and deal with whaterver troubles you face really. Later on, I convince the hotel night watchman that I need to keep my bike inside the hotel but he takes some convincing as he really can't see the point. However as far as I'm concerned, no bike equals no trip.

I discover my new favourite breakfast the following day, Malaysian iced coffee with freshly fried Roti bread and curry dip (Roti Canai)- delicious for about 30 pence. I also have my first near breakdown today though it is easily sorted. Overtaking a bus my throttle jammed on which is always entertaining. On inspection, one of the throttle cable locking nuts has simply loosened itself and come off, catching on the cable and a quick roadside repair follows though as it was only fingertight, it soon came loose again and had to pull over at a garage to get some shade to work properly. While mustering up the enthusiasm to pull the bike apart in the midday heat, I witnessed something both amusing and quite scary. A Caltex fuel truck was filling one of the garages underground tanks when suddenly one of the garage employees starts shouting at the driver. The tank is clearly now full as gallons of petrol are now gushing out an overflow valve in the forecourt hardstanding. The indian driver casually inspects this mini fountain and closes the tap though by now cars arriving at the garage are now driving over the little stream of pertol. After a bit more arm waving, someone finally places a few traffic cones around the spillage to prevent the whole place going up like a fireball. I retire to the furthest possible corner of the garage and carry out my repairs. If this had happended in the UK, I can imagine the proceedure might have been a little different.

It's similar to the traffic here. As soon as I started riding, that familiar sting of diesel fumes hits your eyes and you just have to get on with it. I feel as though I should be used to the feeling that every driver wants me dead but its been 8 months since I was last properly riding and even that was North America. For anything remotely resembling this, I'd need to go back a year when I was in Mexico. I have a couple of mini road rage moment where cars sit approximately 1-2" off my back wheel and then overtake, finishing off the manoeuvre by trying to take out my front wheel as they pull back in. And so it goes on. I get to thinking that in the UK, I believe the standard RR proceedure is to pull the offending driver through his car window and then stab him through the heart before cheerfully driving off. I believe that this technique really wouldn't work here as you'd have to maim a lot of drivers before you got any form of satisfaction. Rather than following lane marking, the traffic is rather like water, merely taking the easiest path. However, I know this is nothing on how India will be so guess its a good re-introdution into riding like a maniac again for me.

I made it as far north as the outskirts of Kota Baru before I couldn't take the build up of traffic any longer and instead turned east to the coast, finaly ending up in Kuala Besar, the gateway to the Perhintian Islands as I found out (I'm not traveling with a guidbook this time). Once I'd found a cheap but clean place to stay, I took a walk in the early evening and saw two familiar figures- Ali and Liz whom I'd met on Tioman had been on one of the islands for about a week and were now heading back to KL. Getting some accommodation tips from them, we wandered around the night market food stalls where I eventually ate after my friends departed.

Deep fried chicken feet anyone?

Gettin' my wheels back again

Once again my fellow HUBBers came to the rescue in the shape of Dean, a UK ex-pat living in KL and after a tremendous piss up, I was shown yet more generous hospitality at their beautiful home while in town waiting to clear my bike from Port Klang, around 40kms away from the city though will freely admit having a slight 'where the fuck am I?' moment upon waking up in Deans place with a bit of a hangover the following morning!

Grrrrrr!

After many phone calls and emails to the UK, I have to also give a big thanks to Paul Gowen of the RAC and Ashley Plane from my bank (Virgin One) in helping me get my Carnet sorted, underwritten by my bank and couriered out to the shipping agent here. In fact, the carnet arrived the day before the container the bike was emptied so that was actually great timing.

Still in bits

If you're not particuilarly interested in clearing proceedure skip this bit but basically involved the following:

1. Go to shipping agents office, pay about 300rms (about $90), and pick up the much anticipated Carnet and some port paperwork.

2. Go to Customs office (Lance at my shipping office kindly gave me some maps of the port) just outside of North Port in Port Klang. Give them the Carnet, which they duly filled in (though not until their lunch hour was finished) and answer lots of questions like why am I traveling alone (because), isn't it expensive to travel round the world (yes) etc. They didn't even want to inspect the crate which I was rather surprised at.

3. Take the Carnet with now completed section for Malaysia over to the relevant warehouse office in North Port (the office was in B2 & the crate in B4), pay a fee of 19rm (about $6) and then I had my clearance paperwork to take to the warehouse boss. Once he was happy, I got them to move the crate to a quiet corner while I dismantled the metal crate and put the bike back together again. I'll admit enlisting the help of some of the workers while I got the front wheel back on as the bike has no centre stand making it slightly tricky on your own.

4. Ride bike plus luggage through the port gates without getting asked for clearance paperwork as I should have been.

5. All in all, the total shipping from Melbourne to KL was approximately $400 all in and took just over 2 weeks. The crate I got given free my the shipping company I used in Melbourne (Trade Lanes).

Ok, lets roll!!