25/4/25
We woke up extra early for our big day on the road. 5:15am. It was straight out onto the 9. It wasn’t any fun. It was just as horrible as the 13. Actually, not quite as horrible, the surface was excellent. There were however plenty of trucks. For some reason we were dodging wood chips that littered the shoulder. It was a little mentally draining. Staring down and weaving around them for 20km.
We’d expected to see a petrol station and maybe a cheeky Café Amazon but no luck. We bought some iced coffee. He tried to pour condensed milk in first but we stopped him. The ‘coffee’ looked too pale and creamy. We let them melt for 5km. When we stopped and sipped them we realised they were already ‘milkified’. We abandoned them. We couldn’t bring ourselves to drink it.
Pulled off to the side of the road were two cycle tourists. It was exciting to see some others again. It had been a while. It was a brief and slightly strained chat. They were Brazilian and therefore spoke Portuguese as a first language. They were heading towards Luang Prabang. Or they wanted to. They seemed to be reconsidering the mountainous ride given the temperatures.
We summoned all our muster and pushed hard. When the road wiggled and briefly turned south we were pushed back by a strong wind. Thank god we didn’t have to contend with it the whole way. At the next we managed to negotiate for an untainted coffee. Well, without cows milk. They’d still ploughed it with sugar. They grow coffee here in Laos. We don’t understand why they don’t enjoy its taste more. We bought a soya milk to pour on top. Now we were drinking what they were.
Coffee hanging on our handlebars we crossed the Laos-Hungary friendship bridge over the Xe Xengtoy. The road was elevated as it went through a flat open plain. This area was very friendly. There were lots of people greeting us. The weather was turning out to be just what we needed for our journey. Grey clouds hiding the Sun.
Mothers, or maybe they were grandmothers, often brought the young children out. Waving their little hands for them. We assume we are something different for them to see. The road climbed upwards. Not steeply. A gradual ascent. We were leaving the towns and villages behind. Instead there was thick woodland. Where there were clearings we could see the burnt trees. We expected it. The air quality maps indicated this area had a few fires.
It was 11am and we’d managed to cover 70km. We had 20km left. We got some more ice and made up a batch of our homemade electrolytes. It was quite nice to have found a way to avoid plastic bottles. We offered the woman a token amount for the ice but she refused. We tried to leave it for her anyway but she wedged it a crevice on the black Surly. We really just wanted to give her something. It was only pennies.
As we descended, we were soon back in a hubbub of sprawling buildings. In Xethamouak we saw lots of guesthouses that weren’t on the map. We could have got away with an 80km day. It was relieving but we’d psyched ourselves up to reach Muang Phin.
Frustratingly Frankie’s stomach was cramping a lot. She hadn’t escaped the worst of the monthly pain despite her initial hopes. This made the last 10km much harder. She tried to amuse herself with greeting friendly children. Ahead of us a wall of trees rose up. There was no doubt we were approaching a border. We took a side road to break up the monotony for the last 4km. There were a few choices of guesthouse. We went with our first. Cold shower was blissfully.
Across the road from Mookda guest house we bought a celebratory soda. It was impossible to overestimate how much fluid we needed. As we walked through the town we were the focal point. Clearly white people didn’t visit much. We walked about a mile in search of a nonexistent market. We were getting good at recognising who was genuinely saying hello. We were definitely the butt of some inside joke to some of the younger men. On our return we stopped to get some tapioca dessert and some noodles with vegetables. The woman was perplexed by our decision to not have the meat and the demand of extra vegetables. A woman eating in the restaurant even took a picture of us.
There were a few roadside stalls and we bought some more vegetables and fruit. Including something that resembled a rambutan but was elongated. The room had a big television. As usual it was unplugged, covered in dust and pushed to one side like it was junk. There must have been some kind of signal at some point. We ate our usual smorgasbord of vegetables. And watched the final episode of Bosch Legacy. Then Resort, and Flight Attendant.
Surly They Won't Make It 