On the 6th of April 2005, cousins Jamie Mackenzie and Ben Wylson set off on their bikes on a journey which will take them to over 50 countries and to every one of the worlds great continents, all without the use of an aeroplane.
Friday, October 28, 2005: Bullet with Butterfly Wings
The time is 15:59 on Friday afternoon; in seven hours' time FWE will board the Kho Jaroen Ferry and sail for six hours, bearing south-east into the Gulf of Thailand to Kho Tao - 'Turtle Island'.
From Hua Hin we travelled south for several days, reaching Prauchuap Khiri Khan late last Saturday. After a bout of violent food poisoning, contracted from a 7/11 hotdog with cheese and mustard and an inflicted three-day recovery period, we continued south, arriving a few hours ago at the coastal town of Chomphon.
We moved heaven and earth to get here for this moment; Highway 4 played host to our wheels for much of the ride but when possible we would strike away from the main drag and head east along the smaller, more beautiful and accommodating roads. Often, at their termination, we'd discover bays of pristine sand that lay entirely bereft of people; beaches of paradise all to ourselves. Coconut palms stretched endlessly in either direction, the blue sea laying ripples of pleasure on the white sand and a sprinkling of exotic shells. A dip in the warm water, then back to the saddle and the more important job of achieving Chomphon. We flew down the country's east coast, dogs chomping at thin air as they vainly chased our wheels. On and on, through Thap Sakae, Bang Saphan, Ban Thung Mala as a single machine of determination; a bullet with butterfly wings.
The time is 16:14...there are less than seven hours to go...
Monday, October 17, 2005: Neon hot-dogs & Apache bliss in a boozy back street bar
We left Bangkok on Saturday morning under a cloudy sky but in hot sticky conditions. Studying maps, it seemed that exiting the city would not be too much of a problem...it wasn't. Indeed it was actually a pleasure to cycle out of the place. Bangkok, you see, is more of a massive Metropolis than a mere city, where the highways are 12 lanes wide and the traffic is thick and congested. Drivers, however, are for the most part very considerate and far from wanting to squash two 'farangs' will give over the entire road if you so desire. We followed Rama 2 to the outer limits, sweeping through the traffic and cutting across round-abouts, slowly watching as one-by-one the cars and trucks diminished. We would weave our way to the front of the lights, engines thumping, humming and revving all around us, the lights start flashing amber, the cacophony of engine noises building and building. We are in a Grand Prix at the front of the grid...3...2...1...and we're off, only our acceleration is better than everyone else's. We steam across the vast intersection, legs pumping hard, sweat flowing in torrents down our chests.
We rode due west along highway 35, a storm constantly tripping at our heels, threatening a deluge that never came. Under a falling sky of battleship grey, we were headed to a junction where we could pick up Highway 4 and so begin the slog due south towards the beaches.
By the end of the first day we had put a healthy 65 miles between us and the magnificent Capitol City of Hedonism.
The following day was a FWE classic. After 6 tiring, hard months we were, at long, long last within touching distance of the coast. After passing through Phetchaburi, the signs for Cha am started appearing on the signposts. Cha am: a place that has been popular with Thai tourists since the dawn of all creation is packed all year round with droving masses, all seeking a square inch of sand. Several km's north, however, lies a small beach, that, due to its inaccessibility, has remained relatively untainted by any sort of development. It was here that we headed; 15 kms the sign said - 15 kms until the sea! We gathered pace without any extra effort, our thoughts miles away, legs spinning merrily in happy unison. The miles ticked down and still we gathered speed. By the time the 1 km marker presented itself we were cruising at 23 mph. King Fishers, neon in hue, sat on the high wires, Black Drongos flitting between the palms, Stilts and all manner of waders stalking up and down in the shallow rice paddies. Thick, thick vegetation surrounded us and the road twisted and turned so you could barely see 50 metres ahead.
Away in the distance, off in the south, a low thundering was audible. The drone grew louder and louder until over the top of the near by palms a squadron of Apache and Chinook helicopters came rumbling tight and low, right over our heads. The down draft was immense and we faltered briefly on our course. 'Ride Of The Valkyries' rang through our minds as we awaited a blazing line of Napalm to raze the ground around us. The intensity of the moment was building...
...the road straightened...500 metres away in the distance there was an opening in the trees, palms and creepers spreading themselves, allowing a small arch of brilliant light to claw its way through the undergrowth. Eyes squinted... it couldn't be... it was...it was a horizon of blue... FWE had crossed half-way around the world, had travelled from coast-to-coast and now, for the first time since leaving Ostend in Belgium 6 months previously, could finally feast their parched eyes on the Big Blue.
We rode our bikes past the beach markers, all the way, right on to the sand. Clothes on, sweat and tears tumbling down, we marched to the shore line and waded into the water, wallowing in pride and satisfaction. Another experience, another emotion that money cannot buy, that no short cuts will provide; simply priceless and unforgettable.
We sped through Cha am, stopping only for a quick lunch; a hot-dog from a 7/11 shop on the sea-front. Hua Hin lay only 24kms down the track and it was here that we decided to go for the night. It's the official holiday destination of the Thai Royal Family and as such is a place where one could spend a fortune if so desired. Fortunately, though, there is also some budget accommodation to be found and at 180 B a night, for a twin room with fan, we couldn't complain.
The beach here is popular and boasts its fair share of tourists and travellers; mostly aged German couples who really shouldn't be displaying as much flesh as they often do. There are palms and large rocks all along the 5km length of the beach and with them, the usual quota of Thai Massage ladies; usually very old and resembling a Gagool like figure. We, however, tend to save our money for the far younger, prettier fillies who frequent the OFFICIAL Massage houses.
At a recent board meeting in a boozy back street bar, it was decided that the team will aim to reach Kho Tao no latter than the start of November. There is after all no rush. Instead, FWE will stop when they like and cycle no more than 30 miles a day, heading from one beach to the next.
We will do as we please and if the sun shines tomorrow then we will stay for another day but, if not, then we will pack up and move on to a secluded marine park, not far from here, that has a white-sanded, palm-fringed beach that is hugged on three sides by towering limestone cliffs.
And then...well, who knows, but frankly, who cares... we're in Thailand!
: coastal frog
Ben's bike has taken on a whole new shape. If it ever had any symmetry, if it ever looked streamlined as though it might cut through the air like a bullet, it has lost those attributes. In fact the bike has taken on the complete opposite look, that of a cumbersome lump, something you would think would be impossible to move without the assistance of a diesel engine.
This change in the bike's appearance from sleek, practical world traveller to something like a mobile bric-a-brac shop has come at a time when the miles no longer matter, when the days no longer need to be long, as we wind our way -ever so slowly- along the tropical coast line of the Gulf of Thailand. We are in no rush to get to Australia and begin working, saving for the next leg. Yes, before this leg is through we must think of the second year of Free Wheels East, cycling the length of south America. I expect that when we put to sea and set sail for Punta Arenas the bikes will once again look like machines belonging to professionals. I digress; the major de-streamlining addition to Ben's bike is an instrument that he feels lost without - the guitar. In Bangkok a mini guitar was bought for peanuts; it adds one foot of length and half a foot of width to his bike. No longer may small gaps be negotiated with this musical load. There is more: a brown, felt hat, bought all the way back in China, sits between the guitar and a pair of smelly old hiking boots. Then, if you move forward to the handle-bars, on Ben's large, steel bell sits a small magnetic frog with arms and feet that operate in the same way as a parcel-shelf dog's head. The purchase of the magnetic frog at Bangkok zoo was deemed essential by both members of the team, as were an assortment of international flag stickers, those of the countries we've visited, now plastered across frame and pannier. The cherries on the cakes, though, our pride, our patriotism, inexorably finding their way onto our bicycles, are two union flags; to bolster our gratitude for belonging to the United Kingdom of Great Briatin and Northern Ireland!
Jamie's bike -with the exception of flags and the odd pair of drying pants tucked under a bungee- has retained its original dimensions and sports no unsightly lumps on its rear end.
Perhaps you may have a better picture now of the real FWE vehicles in your mind. So, your image of those blemish-less, unused things, to be seen in the gallery section of this website, should stand corrected. Speaking of which, there is a vast archive of photos from Germany to date for you to see which will illustrate all that has happened to us on our trundle from the English channel to these warm, blue, lapping waters. Our pictures will be published as soon as we are stationary long enough to select the best of them. We plan to settle for a little while here in Thailand, to try to remember what stability means -for a short period that is. It will be then that you will find yourselves up to date with the images of the expedition... Something to look forward to!!
Thursday, October 13, 2005: farewell falafel
Well folks,it's that time again: time to load the black Ortliebs and set to work on gaining a few more miles on our adventure through South East Asia. Bangkok, heaving and hot Bangkok serving delicious Falafals, much maligned as a place to escape ASAP, has offered the perfect remedy to all cycling ailments. Relaxing, entertaining, exhilarating, friendly; what a time, what a place.
Our friends, supporters and guides - Jayzee and Vee - have provided many an enjoyable moment and their kindness and hospitality will not be soon forgotten. Many thanks to them for making our stay so thoroughly fantastic.
Early-ish on Friday morning we'll turn our backs on new familiarities and, as Bruce Wayne becomes Batman, Parker to Spiderman, Banner to The Hulk, Jamie and Ben will once again become...Free Wheels East! Courageously scorching a line around the world, they'll thunder relentlessly on, on their sleek, black demon machines to Chumphon, Kho Tao and the paradise of life, Thai beach style.
Saturday, October 08, 2005: Gargantuan Ride
One road, two bikes, 600 kms, four and a bit days....Bangkok
The Friendship Bridge was before us, Thailand before us. Two Thai flags fluttered in a light breeze, we cycled towards them, crossing the Mekong leaving Laos behind, a precious memory. Cycling on the left -as they do back in Great Britain- our wheels hit Thai tarmac for the first time. Nearly getting run over a few times -forgetting which way to look- we joined the vast Friendship Highway; built by the Americans, re-surfaced in 1988, the perfectly smooth and flat concrete strip runs from the Laos border all the way to Bangkok -600kms away- in more or less a straight line.
Herons and egrets took to the wing, buffalo and the sacred, white, baggy-skinned, long-eared cow chewed the cud while we powered ourselves toward the capital through terrain similar in places to that found in East Anglia, but for the odd palm or banana plant.
Team Free Wheels East had no intention to rush the ride, but when you're on the flat after the foothills of Tibet it's incredible how fast you can turn the pedals. There are restrictions on the length of cycling days here though; we never can get up too early and the sun is gone by 6:00 which leaves - give or take, assuming we leave at 9:00 - 9 hours, one hour of which is lunch time, so 8 hours to cycle; well, not quite that much: 15 minutes every hour is spent sipping water in a roadside shack. Regardless of 35 degree heat and the sweat falling from your body as though you were a storm cloud, we still managed to cycle three 100-mile days back to back.
On the last day of the push, a storm helped us on our way and we ran at 25mph before it until a loud bang stopped Ben dead; one of his hiking shoes, strapped to the back of the bike had caught in his wheel taking him from 25 to 0 in a second. Somehow he stayed on the bike as it swerved across the hard shoulder. Cursing hard, the shoe was extracted -without damage to the shoe or bike- and the pair were once again blown forth by the stormy gusts.
The last 30 miles of the final day's ride were just manic. Bangkok, notorious for its heavy traffic, was gridlocked. Only London on tube strike days could compare. Jamie valiantly kept the camera rolling with it strapped to a front pannier. A slow puncture on Ben's rear tyre forced frequent breaks for re-inflation; if it wasn't for those breaks perhaps we would've dropped from our saddles and fallen by the wayside! As darkness fell we found ourselves lost in the metropolis desperately seeking the infamous Khou San Road. With the occasional whimper of "I can't take much more of this" we persevered, the throb of engines and horns blowing to accompany us.
Black with settled exhaust smuts, dripping from head to foot, the physical and mental fatigue at its height, 105 miles on the speedo, we sat on the steps outside Burger King and ate our Double Whopper Meals with shaking hands. With the poor, battered bikes close at hand and Ben's kickstand -which broke on the way- lashed with a piece of string and wedged with a broken chopstick, the Khou San road twinkled in the night, its bright lights casting colour onto the drawn faces of two exhausted, ecstatic cyclists.
Sunday, October 02, 2005: Bobbing aliens
There were screams of exhilaration as someone swung on a zip-wire which ran from a tall tree growing next to the Namsong river out over the fast flowing brown water. The zipper picked up pace and deposited the unfortunate dangler into the water from a height enough to make your skin sting with the impact. A rickety ladder took another victim up the tree to the highest possible point where a precarious-looking, flimsy bamboo platform was supported by branches above the water. It was there that another waited to suffer the same fate.
Jamie was the first to go after watching an Irishmen land in the water with an elegant flip. He attempted a flip also but landed on his face, the crowd ouched en masse. I followed soon afterwards, my heart thumping, to plop into the water in an equally uncouth manner.
After our exhilarating experience on the zip wire we resumed our jaunt of sitting on old tractor inner-tubes bobbing down the river. They call it 'Tubing'. Over the last week we've been plagued by thunderstorms of a ferocity that even Jamie -who is an experienced hand when it comes to South East Asian weather- had never seen before. As a result there were power-cuts lasting for days on end; the river was swollen, and fast!
We enjoyed the messing about on the river with a couple who were motor-cycling around the world on a bike similar to Charlie Borman and Ewan McGregor's, a BMW. We floated to a river bar where we were hoiked from the water with a bamboo pole, and enjoyed Bob Marley and Beer with the river gurgling past. Later that day we went for a curry with them at Nazim's Curry House. I believe I ordered a Tika Masala.. Our motor-cycling friends were great people, good luck to them!
On Thursday morning we loaded panniers, took the tyres up to pressure, oiled chains and tightened nuts. Then we cycled across the Vang Vieng air strip and onto the highway, happy to be reunited with our bikes. We both felt affection for our heavy, black work horses as they whirred away beneath us, in almost as good working order as they were when we left England.
Cycling seemed such a natural thing! A secret fear of losing the knack had been hanging over us for most of the three-week ankle recuperation period. We were happy that we hadn't lost the fitness of 6 months of cycling in three weeks, at least that's what we thought at first...
It was then that an un-ankle-related problem occurred; towards the end of the day an alien took up residence inside Jamie, or that's what it looked like. The skin on his legs was moving around as though it had snakes beneath it. He began to suffer with cramps in every leg muscle and he began to sweat profusely but a good night's rest seemed to do the trick. Nevertheless the cramps returned the next day. If we had not got so close to Vientiane on the first day's ride perhaps we would not have made it there at all.
Three days of rest in Vientiane seem to have done the trick. Yesterday we saw the last of the alien-like twitches. Tomorrow we'll cross the border and enter Thailand via the Friendship Bridge from where the attempt to cycle to Bangkok will commence.
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