Riding 2Up

Sent 23 Jan 2009

Riding2Up News Update from Cambodia
 
Welcome to our first and very likely one-and-only Riding2Up News Update from
Cambodia! We are currently in Kratie town, about 250km north of Phnom Penh in northeastern Cambodia.
 
We now have 8,000kms, two sand bogs, one crash and zero punctures under our belt!
 
Up and downs of adventure traveling
 
Arguably the hardest part of traveling in Cambodia is the constant stench of rotting waste, sewage, and clear signs of extreme poverty and corruption. These sights and nauseating odors can take their toll emotionally and brew a deep sense of negativity within. This combined with the lack of intelligible road signs and traffic chaos makes for our most interesting update yet! Cambodia is confronting, sorrowful and demanding (on the heart, mind and purse strings). With all expenses paid in US dollars, Cambodia is not a country in South-East Asia where it is easy to get by on a shoestring. I overheard someone in a cafe refer to the greenback as the "poverty alleviating dollar" but I have serious doubts about whether it has such a gracious affect. On face value, it seems to make the general cost of living very high and for millions of Cambodians living on less than US50 per month, simply unaffordable. I believe it quite simply makes the wealthy more wealthy whilst the poor remain in poverty. ~ Arja
 
The taste of dust
 
The dry season in Cambodia is hot and dusty. Off any of the major highways (2 lane roads with no lines) everywhere is dry and dusty, on our ride from Kampong Cham to Kratie we got our fair share of dirt. There are many analogies for having an accident on a bike but in our case it was more clouds of dust and dirt that we ate.
 
--- From the diary ---
January 21/01/2009
After a breakfast of nutella on bread and instant coffee in the hotel room we packed our gear into the panniers we'd left on the bike it was off to Kratie. You'd be forgiven for thinking that the next 127kms would be easy and straight forward, it was anything but. After the new 1km bridge over the Mekong from Kampong Cham we had to turn right to loop under the bridge in order to take the dirt road heading North and follow the 308 alongside the Mekong River. The dirt road was bumpy and potholed with large craters left from the wet season. The road alternated from red to beige in colour and from compacted dirt to dirt with gravel to bulldust and mud. The road condidtions were variable and it was at the 29 km mark when the first of the deep bulldust would have us turn back in search of an alternative short of going back to the highway. There wasn't one so I convinced Arja to ask for directions from the locals whilst I reduced the air pressure in the front and rear tyres to 20/25 psi from 36/42 psi respectively.
 
The first part of the bulldust was ok but as it became deeper and more rutted and the alternatives for riding on the embankments either side of the main track became less feasible I had to take the we'll worn ruts. It was at this point that the unexpected happened. As we entered the lefthand wheel rut the bulldust got increasingly deeper and as I took my feet off the pegs to stablise the bike, the bike leant left and with nowhere to go but lean against the wall of the rut the bike tipped. It was at this point that somehow my left foot got pulled back underneath the left pannier and folded back it was uncomfortably wedged between the ground and the underneath side of the pannier. As we ground to a halt I yelled at Arja to get off as my foot was stuck and I couldn't move. The full weight of the bike was now bearing down on my left ankle and all I could do was yell at Arja to help get the bike off me. She heaved and hoed but the damned thing didn't move and I could sense that my ankle was at breaking point. Luckily when a local came he and Arja managed to lift the bike up high enough for me to pull my ankle out. The whole ordeal strained my nerves and knee and (if it wasn't for a lorry speeding up behind us horning to get through the bulldust without stopping I would have easily taken a few minutes to rest and check that no lasting damage had been done. Instead I hoped straight back on, clicked into second gear and gave a fistful of throttle to plough out of the deep rut and get out of the way of the truck now right up behind the bike.
 
Back on the bike and I vowed to take the easiest route and avoid the deep ruts wherever possible. Because of this we got a bit off track and in the middle of a vegetable paddy, we doubled back when a farmer made clear gestures that we needed to go back to the main road which had turned the bulldust into a muddy slip-pan from all the irrigation waters. The trick we learnt was to try and keep the Mekong in sight on our left and we'd be ok. As we hadn't caught our earlier mishap on film and Arja was all too happy to jump off and walk for a bit, I passed her the camera and waited until she was in position before riding through the torn up track.
 
In a small village called Treas we pulled over by the dusty roadside where locals were selling sticky rice (Krolan). The rice is prepared in 30cm long and 3-4cm in diametre bamboo tubes. The rice is mixed with some honey, cocnut mik and soya beans and steamed became a glutenous pudding like meal. The trick as a young village woman showed me was to careully peal the bamboo away from the rice, leaving a thin film aroud the rice, a bit like a banana. This way the rice was in a sleave and more manageable.
 
The dirt road which in the wet season would've been impassable had deep potholes and ruts in places that hadn't yet been graded. Where the dirt road had been graded it was a pleasure to ride as the scenery was beautiful. At the 69km point we hit a very smooth 35km stretch of tarmac which lasted until a few kilometres out of Chlong. Once the tarmac ended it was long dusty stretches of roadworks but luckily not too much traffic. As the best traction on dirt/gravel roads is in the wheel tracks of other vehicles I stuck the right wheel track bordering on the outer road edge where it is a little smoother due to the accumulation of dirt, dust and sand pushed their. It was on the soft edge along a straight and wide dirt road where it all went wrong. As I had done countless times before I stood up on the footpegs to stretch my legs and get a better feel for the road but on this occasion something would happen that would throw off my balance just slightly. Whether it was a gust off wind, a stone, the palm branch or a badly timed adjustment of weight I don't know but what I do know is that we were riding uncomfortabling close to the brink on the soft bulldust and before I had the chance to get the wheels back onto harder dirt we were laid on our left-hand side scrapping and spinning down the dirt road. The force of the slide tore the left pannier off the rack and as we spun around I realised my right hand had locked the throttle wide open so I took my left hand off the handle bar and turned off the ignition at the key. Once we ground to a stop in the middle of the road I started yelling at Arja if she was alright and to get up. My instincts were to get us and then the the bike to safety off the road. We were fortunate that there was little traffic. The handful of locals who heard the three of us come crashing down were all in shock except for two men who were laughing. If my focus wasn't on picking the bike and the fallen pannier up off the road, I would've had a go at them but I saved my energy and nerves and took out the camera to document our fall from grace. Apart from a very bruised and battered ego and pride there was nothing that couldn't be fixed or bent back into shape there and then, so as Arja sat under the palm tree in shock trying to contemplate what happened I got my tools out and went to work to bend the pannier rack and attachment back into shape. The oogling locals only too ready to laugh at us offered little help and although I probably would've refused I think a pat on the back and an 'are you alright mate' might've been nice, even in Khmer! A few minutes later I had the pannier back on and with not so much time as to lick our wounds we made tracks for the town of Kratie.
 
Judging by the amount of dirt and dust we were covered in, our crash would've been an amazing cloud of dust and dirt ploughing down the road! Where was the camera crew and instant replay with three angles then?! In a post crash analysis some footage might've been helpful in understanding what happened but instead we got into the local Angkor brew to reflect on our lucky escape from injury.
--- End diary enrty ---
 
Too close for comfort?
Another issue with adventure traveling reared its ugly head during our stay in Phnom Penn, and that was the need for our own personal space from time to time. This need seems self-evident, but with Pascal and I being around each other every second of the day, 24 hours a day for over 200 days... some personal time-out becomes a crucial factor to a successful, happy journey. I certainly take my hat off and bow to anyone who can put up with me for that long (especially due to my stubborn nature)! Having said that though, I must make it clear that I'm by no means a high maintenance girl... seriously! *cough, cough*
 
Sardines, featherd friends and pink pajamas
 
Cambodians have unique methods for achieving the mass transportation of both people and animals. People are crammed into vehicles, on top of trucks and squeezed onto scooters like sardines in a can. It is not uncommon to see up to five or six people on one Honda Dream 100cc, with mum often carrying a baby or eating soup! While we were amazed at the amount of people and goods Cambodians can fit onboard one moving vehicle, it is quite a shock to see live animals being transported to the slaughter on mass. Countless chickens, ducks and geese are tied with string around their legs and hanged upside down from horizontal battons on the back of scooters for transportation. We looked closely, and yes they were still alive, raising their heads, flapping their wings if they could and squeeling into the wind. They no doubt travel between 50-100km in this manner and in the heat of the day. Pigs are simarly transported in small woven crates - the most we've seen is about twelve piglets in the one crate.
 
A curious observation aside is that many local women appeared to be wearing pajamas at all times of the day. On closer inspection we found out that they really were pajamas - complete with fluffy ducks, hello kitty and pretty pink flowers.Pajamas truly are the most popular form of attire with women wearing them out to shop at the markets, whilst riding a bike or scooter - just going about their daily business. I for one know how comfortable they are and really think they should become the new fashion trend in Sydney - I'll just have to head out to the market to find myself a pair! Let me know if anyone else is interested in this new fad??!
 
Excited about clean clothes….welcome to our life on the road!
 
After our crash and roll in the red dirt we were covered from head to toe in the stuff. It had also been three weeks since we had last washed our motorcycle clothes and they were beginning to stand up by themselves. So upon our arrival in Kratie we began a vigorous rinsing, soaking and wringing operation [repeat five times for each garment] that would take up most of the morning. This we did in a small blue bucket over the toilet in our cramped WC. Items were promptly hanged to dry on our makeshift clothesline attached to nooks and crannies in the room. Glasses and plastic trays were placed on the bed and table to catch miscreant drips... and that is how one makes do without the modern convenience of a washing machine! This cleaning business is also a vicious cycle as things don't stay clean for long. But there is nothing like removing the sweat stains and gastly smell from ones clothes and having fresh, clean clothes to wear in the morning! Such simple pleasures!
 
Our Laos visa is not valid for entry until 30 January 2009, so we've decided to head into Cambodia's "wild east" to tackle the pot-holed roads of Ratanakiri province to be rewarded by remarkable jungle, volcanic crater lakes and waterfalls, instead of going straight up to Laos first.

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