9th June 2000
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11th June 2000

Day 262
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Day 264

The villages are changing in character - houses have been raised upon stilts - to avoid the flood waters from the adjacent Mekong. We also begin to see the orange robes of the more Thai looking monks - shaven heads and peaceful pacing around the sharp roofed temples that we spy by the roadside from time to time. Some of the villages seem to share little with the China that we have been riding through - the gentle jangling of chimes and the adornment off roof tops with the flame shapes and dragons that seem to conjure images of South East Asia proper.

The ride out of Jinghong is one of our easiest days for some time - 70km without any sort of serious hill - and with a fine smooth road. We cut the day short and find a bed for the night.

Mengla is the last stop in China - our last night of a 3 month trajectory across the People's Republic. The day is no easier than most that we have lived with. The road continues once again to rise and fall --climbing from 600m up to around 1500m - before dropping once more to bring us within sight of our last Chinese town. Mengla is marked as a small town on our map, Lonely Planet barely gives it a mention - and we presume that we'll find a tiny place - WRONG. Once again China provides us with a bustling metropolis with every modern trapping of Market Socialism (Politically Correct vernacular for Post Communist state embracing the greed of Capitalism as fast as possible). 4 star hotels, plenty of branded goods, noisy traffic and the ubiquitous Karaoke bars. We speculate - without much foundation - on what contrasts we will find across the border tomorrow in Laos. Its time to leave China behind, our companion for such a long time - and our longest crossing in the whole expedition to date. It's a strange thing - but somehow I don't feel the connection with this country that we've felt before. From Iran, through Pakistan, India, Nepal and Tibet I have had desires to return even before we had properly left. I had warm feelings for the people and the scenes that we had ridden through. Attempting to rationalise this cold feeling that the country has left us with - it seems that the language barrier has been very difficult for us - and also the depth of the cultural differences - past and current are something that would take a long period of study to even begin to understand. We have been here for 3 months, and yet we still don't seem to have come any closer to understanding this mystical country.

Tim's arm is free from all vestiges of his Tiger Leaping Gorge misadventure (now some 4 weeks previous) - and so we ride as a four man team once again. The tingle of anticipation for a new country builds as the kilometres tick down - what will we find?

We enjoy one last Chinese Meal for lunch - and then make our way to the Chinese immigration post. A few jitters run through me as the Immigration official asks us how far we have travelled - the question none of us has prepared for is just one logical step away 'So where have you been in China' - and 'how did you get out of Tibet?'. Gladly these tricky questions don't crop up - and we are even allowed to take a couple of snaps at the border barrier. We leave without further incident - and watch the tarmac deteriorate immediately into a mud road. A single kilometre of no-mans-land, a sharp corner through dense forest - and we find ourselves emerging into Laos. A haphazard collection of huts greets us - along with the squelchy splatter of deep red mud. We weave our way precariously through the quagmire - and find a deserted guesthouse. Boten is a tiny village - but at least there is a small guesthouse - which turns out to be very comfortable and accommodating. As we sit outside though we wonder about the road ahead. I can see the mud track stretching away - and the early evening downpour softens up the already thick mud into a wallpaper paste consistency - the village is awash. I pray that the tarmac will begin soon - I really don't fancy 300km to Louang Prabang rim deep in mud - no sir!

In the event the road is much better than we might have expected - and with an early start out of Boten we are able to plod along the gravelly road at a stately 15-16 km/hr. Andrew sets sail on a couple of days of solo riding (needing some time to himself) - and Tim, Nick and I make our way a short distance behind him. Our first impressions of Laos will certainly not leave us for a long time. In sharp contrast to China we find a peaceful tranquillity on the roads. We seem to be the only traffic this morning on the southbound road to Udomxai - and the peace is deafening - our ears are bathed in only the natural sounds of wildlife and running water. There are few settlements along our route today - but those that we do find are enchanting simple rural scenes of peaceful tribal living. The people are genuinely friendly and intrigued to see 'Falang, Falang' - foreigners on bicycles! The kids seem to be educated from the cradle to wave at visitors - and the countryside erupts from time to time into excited shrieks of 'Saabaddie! Saabaddie!'. The joy that they seem to find when we wave back is truly heartening and a touching experience. After a few villages with such rapturous receptions - I decide to try for a photo of these wonderful smiling faces. As I draw to a halt near to a group of smiling waving faces - I see the looks of joy change to looks of fear and horror. The whole group of half a dozen kids scatters into screams and tears - they are petrified - and run for their lives. They seem to not be used to the 'Falang' at close quarters - as tourists usually fly by in their buses or pick ups. I retreat sympathetically waving and trying to apologise to the parents - oops! We draw near to our objective for this evening - Udomxai - and we pause for drinks whilst Nick repairs another broken spoke. From a pulled up bus an English traveler leans out and shouts over to us 'Ere - you're not cycling from London to Sydney are you?'. The audacity of the question is quite baffling - we've never met the guy before - but he knows about our trip? We sheepishly nod and begin a conversation - he explains he has bumped into Dean a few days ago in a town back up the road - so it was easily explained - and yet quite an off putting thing to happen in the middle of most rural Northern Laos. 95km from Boten we pull into Udomxai - the first main town in Laos - dusty shanty streets lined with wooden buildings - we find good food - good beds and several bottles of BeerLao - the national beverage!