ASIAN ADVENTURE

Robert James

When Robert James isn’t cycling around the parks and countryside of North London, or chilling out with his cats, he’s exploring the world on two wheels with his wife

Who remembers adventure? No, I don’t mean walking to the supermarket that isn’t the closest one to your house. Think pre-2020 times, where hopping on a plane and stepping out into wavy air of a hot and distant airport was something that, looking back, I took completely for granted.

Recently, I’ve been reflecting on what I miss most due to the COVID-19 pandemic; pub gardens, cinemas, friends and family, and, most importantly, cycling abroad. And it’s the latter that has got me pining at my window watching the rain, like an emotional scene from a romantic TV drama.

I’m sure all you bike-lovers feel the same! This is why I want to share my most recent adventure with you in a hope that it evokes happy memories of your own and gets you salivating for your first post-corona adventure.

How about a twist? It was done solely through hire bikes, a precarious feat given the hit-andmiss nature of international cycle rentals. Nevertheless, for me, there’s excitement in not knowing what you’re going to get. Whether it’s a squeaky wheel or a handlebar that only seems to be able to turn left, there always seems to be a charming imperfection that

represents the place that you are - signs of over-use on a bicycle enjoyed by hundreds of travellers before you.

Nonetheless, precarious it was at times. And it all started in Thailand.

The 30+-degree heat that engulfed me as I left Bangkok Suvarnabhumi Airport is something I will never forget. Call it jet lag, or perhaps it was my body taking a while to react to the heat, but I decided not to cycle there. Either way, it was an amazing few days of cocktail buckets and 60p noodles. Which, on reflection, could be another reason why I didn’t fancy hopping on a bike just quite yet.

My first real cycling stop was in the city of Ayutthaya, Thailand’s ancient capital. Choosing a cycle tour company near my hotel, I waited outside their establishment at 10 am, limbered up and ready to ride. The first part included passing through some idyllic old Thai villages surrounded by vast and impressive countryside and primary schools accompanied by smiling and waving children.

After stopping for lunch, we headed on to cycle past many old temple ruins, my favourite being Wat Phra Si Sanphet, which at one time was the country’s holiest temple, with spires lined up pointing at the sky, providing a stunning contrast of brownishred against endless blue. I could have stayed there for hours but I had a tour to re-join.

The last leg included markets and a reclining Buddha statue before the final stretch was a cycle along the banks of the Chao Phraya River. The sun was intense at this stage and I was certainly sweating more than I was drinking, but as my legs instinctively peddled whilst my mind drifted, I knew that nothing could quash my happiness and serenity at this moment.

A couple of days after leaving Ayutthaya, I was en route to Chiang Mai. This city was a different vibe altogether, somewhere between humbly traditional and modern student living with plenty of hippy travellers here and there for good measure.

I spent a good few days hiring a bike on my own accord and just exploring the city on two wheels. On a bike that was cumbersome with an unnecessarily large basket, I rattled along the roads and side streets, stopping for strong coffees and spicy dishes, both of which made my head spin. Cloudier than my previous destination and certainly a few decibels lower than Bangkok, Chiang Mai was a peaceful cycling destination.

On my last day there, however, I decided to take an official cycling tour so I could see beyond the city’s walls. After a bit of research, I found one close-by.

The following morning, the usual excitement that hits me at the start of a tour was fluttering in my chest. Arriving at the tour company’s headquarters, the usual marvellous mixed bag of cycling sightseers began to congregate in the already wideawake city. Safety briefed, helmeted up and wrapped in kneepads, we were ready to go!

I passed more markets, temples and teak houses on a TREK 7.2 X hybrid with Bontrager AT-750 alloy rims that rode like a dream. This particular tour was notable for its sightseeing, but they also took their choice of bike very seriously. Bike hire companies can sometimes leave you feeling like you’ve spent the last 6 hours rattling around in a shopping trolley, but these guys had a flawless and well-thought-out fleet. They even had e-bikes for certain tours as well as specialist mountain and road bikes.

Leaving Thailand on a high note, buzzing with glee and with a rucksack full of Chiang beer t-shirts and mantle-piece-bound souvenirs, I was 38,000 feet in the air, on my merry way to Vietnam.

Hanoi was everything I expected and more! My first impression and lasting memory of the place is the throngs of cars and motorbikes that meandered down the road like a steady-flowing river. I could finally put all those years of playing Frogger to the test, yet even the highest level was simple compared to crossing the road to my hotel.

For my first few days, I went to various bike hire places, of which there were plenty. I dawdled through the parks of the city, observing glorious sunsets and markets on railway tracks whose owners had to strategically take their stalls in whenever a train passed. It wasn’t until almost a week in that I decided to go for a full-blown city and countryside cycle tour.

And boy did the tour company deliver! On a state-of-the-art 2014 Giant Roam 1 hybrid mountain bike with an ALUXX aluminium frame, I felt like a champion as I lined up with my small group ready to explore the city and countryside of Hanoi. It was a full 8 hours, which left my legs feeling heavy but my heart feeling satisfied as I experienced rural Vietnamese villages, ate and talked amongst the locals, and crossed the amazing Long Bien bridge – which was breath-taking!

Instead of cycling back to the city, our tiring assemblage was taken back to Hanoi city via a boat along the Red River. This brought with it a welcome breeze and a chance to sit and watch the landscape along the bank change from rural to urban.

Exhausted, I was back in the splendid urban sprawl and treated myself to a traditional Vietnamese water puppet show. Despite the lack of legroom, I was enthralled by the choreography and coordination of it all. A perfect end to my time in Hanoi before heading to my final destination in South-East Asia, Hoi An.

On arrival in Da Nang, the nearest airport to Hoi An, I could see straight away that this part of Vietnam was a completely different story - much quieter for starters! On the relatively short taxi journey to Hoi An city, face pressed against the window like a starry-eyed tourist seeing the Big Apple for the first time, I was already dreaming of my first cycle. Immediately I could see that cycling was a huge part of Hoi An’s tourism and so I opted for a small hire place near my hotel with a modest but durable range of bikes. Compared to my previous glide through Hanoi, this required a bit of extra legwork, but it mattered not as before I knew it I was free amongst the rice paddies and fields just a short distance from the paper lamps and bustling bars of the city. I took some time to visit a beach and have a cautious one-eye-on-mybike paddle. Staying at the beach for a while, I sat at a bar taking in the gentle sounds of the sea intertwining with the clattering of pans and plates behind me. I soon realised I should probably head back to my rental company before they sent out a missing person report, and so, carefully, I trailed back to civilisation. A couple more days of this with some days for rest and exploration by foot sandwiched in between the curtain closed on my Vietnamese adventure. Next on my itinerary was North and Central America, but that’s a different story for a different time…

Today, as I sit in my Enfield home, I can’t help but reflect on this time. As much as I love to get on my bike and explore my local area as often as lockdowns allow – Forty Hall, Whitewebbs and Lea Valley – I’d rather take sunburnt shoulders over muddy legs any day.