Tag: bike touring

Lejog Day 2: Ponsanooth – Liskeard

Distance: 51.4 miles

Time: 5:33

Elevation: 5244 feet

By the time I’d packed up camp this morning, my start wasn’t much earlier, and still to have breakfast, I made for the Norway Inn, waiting impatiently for my fry up to arrive. Now 10:40, I found myself on the busy A39, holding up a truck, before a cycle lane appeared just before the lengthy hill to Devoran. Thankfully, I was exiting here to rejoin the route and swept along some country lanes to King Harry Ferry, a chain ferry across the Carrick Roads.

Climbing steeply away from the slipway, I momentarily reached some higher ground, before the road plummeted again, a pattern that would continue for most of the ride. Much like yesterday, the roads were narrow, and lined with high hedges on either side, I considered the wisdom of choosing an ‘optimal’ route solely on the criteria of minimising traffic, and distance. I had other variables to throw into the mix, like avoiding going over every hilltop, and ensuring that there was occasionally something other than a hedge to look at.

I was thankful for the lack of traffic, though, and as I slogged up the first few climbs there was no one to be seen. Eventually, my luck ran out, and it became a regular occurrence that, no sooner had I started up a climb, a car would come over the brow of the hill, tuck into the verge somewhere near the top, and I’d have to spin up the hill as fast as I could to get past.

On the last few miles into St Austell, the route branched off onto a cycle path of loose gravel and stones, and instantly I regretted following it. I bailed out half a mile later, for the good of my tyres, but, it was too late, and shortly afterwards, my front wheel started to go squidgy. I hauled the bike off the road, through a patch of nettles, and set to work changing the inner tube, resolving to avoid any off road detours in future.

Eventually, I reached St Austell, but not spotting anywhere for lunch, I continued to St Blazey, popping into a shop for provisions. One more climb saw me reach the short Ferry crossing between Fowey and Bodinnick, but the climbing didn’t stop there, and where the hills had been 100 metres high before they now pushed 200.

Passing 43 miles for the day, the relentless climbing caught up with me, and after a tricky 17% descent, the road climbed steeply back up the other side, and I was defeated. 3 times I got off and walked, not ideal on a narrow country lane, but there was nothing else for it.

The miles passed ever more slowly, and I realised that I wouldn’t even make the first of my potential campsites by their check in time of 6pm. One by one, I interrogated Google Maps for alternatives, and one by one, the options disappeared. Passing through Liskeard, I strapped a fish supper to the back of my bike, and set off in the hope that the kind people of Fursdon Farm would forgive my late arrival. At just after 7, I was standing by the campsite entrance when the owners drove in. Head on in they said, and would you like a coffee?

Epilogue

I arrived in Ho Chi Minh City on Monday afternoon, and didn’t fly out again until Thursday, it seemed like an extravagant amount of time in which to get ready. But, getting a bike box was a priority, and with the ongoing Tet celebrations, the predominance of closed shops was a concern. I considered cycling around the city checking out the various bike shops, but I decided I was ‘aff’ bikes for the time being. Besides, after 3 weeks cycling, it was now a struggle to walk up stairs, I should probably go on foot. After checking for bike shops on Google Maps, the first I tried was 2 km to the north, no luck, I couldn’t locate the shop, if the map was right, it was closed.

Then I spotted two close together 2 km to the south of the hotel, so back I went. The first one was closed, but the second, Saigon Bikes was open. Not only that, but the owner addressed me in English and I could see some bike boxes hiding behind a well-stocked cabinet of shimano bike parts. With a huge sense of relief, I tucked the folded up box under my arm and wandered back to the hotel.

I packed up the bike, outside the hotel, on the Wednesday morning, and was baffled by a lady who grabbed the box, chucked my empty water bottles in it and started to walk off with it. ‘Hey I need that!’

In the afternoon, I made a belated attempt at conventional tourism by heading to the ‘War Remnants Museum’ an utterly harrowing experience in which the Vietnamese have showcased the horrors to which they were subjected by the American military. The accounts of entire villages being completely ransacked were appalling, with the elderly, women, children and animals all slaughtered, buildings – such as they were – torched, and chemicals poured over the landscape to destroy crops and vegetation.

One thing that stood out above all else were the words of North Vietnamese President, Ho Chi Minh, whose name adorned the road I had been travelling for the past 3 weeks.

I was glad I went to the Museum, but also glad I went at the end of the trip. For a country which has undergone such trauma in the not too distant past, the scars seem to have healed remarkably well, and the country I travelled through is a testament to the unbreakable nature of the Vietnamese people. The welcome I received, up and down the country, was wonderful.

On my last evening in Vietnam, I decided to have a special meal to commemorate my successful adventure. Opting for the local delicacy of Australian Black Angus Fillet Steak, maybe there is a limit to the number of bowls of Pho I can endure in one month…

All was set, all I needed to do now was make it to the airport for my 13:55 flight to Hanoi. From there I would fly out to Doha at 18:20 and onwards to Edinburgh. ‘Sorry sir, your flight has been delayed to 6:20 PM’ were the unwelcome words from the Jetstar Pacific check-in desk. When I protested that I had another onward flight from Hanoi at exactly that time, I was told to go to their information desk, and from then on it was all systems go. I had to retrieve my bike from baggage control, before returning it to them again – as it was also outsized baggage. By that time, the staff had transferred me onto an earlier, Vietnam Airlines, flight, and running to the gate, I made final boarding.

Back in Hanoi there was a brief interlude between flights while I talked to a Frenchman, Auguste, as I waited for the interterminal bus. He was backpacking around the world and had been to Capo Verde, Martinique, Brazil, New Zealand, Australia and South Korea amongst other places and was heading on to New Delhi, India. He’d been travelling for 13 months already.

My second check-in process ground to a halt as the girl at the desk checked the Baggage Allowance information for British Airways, whom I’d booked my Qatar Airways flight through. The BA allowance was 23 kg, the bike box was 25 kg, if it was a BA flight I knew they’d let me through. As it was, I was sure I’d read that the baggage allowance for the flight should be the Qatar Airways allowance of 30 kg – as they were operating the flight. Having been moved out of the queue, I wasn’t flying anywhere until I found the link on the BA app that stated that for Qatar Airways flights, their conditions applied, my bike was under the limit.

On the flight to Doha I chatted to the passenger next to me, a London-based Luxembourger named Adrien, who was delighting in the freedom afforded to him by solo travel. During his 2 and a half week trip to Vietnam, he’d received an invite to celebrate the Lunar New Year with a friend in Taiwan, and had absolutely loved it, ending up there for a week. I considered how much freedom I’d had on my trip, as I slavishly ticked off places I’d preordained whilst still at home. But, pushing hard to achieve my targets early on had allowed me the opportunity to take things easier during the middle of the journey, enjoying spending time with some of the people I’d met along the away, and ultimately, it was the people that made a trip like this worth doing. The stunning landscapes and fascinating culture were just a bonus.

Day 21: Dong Xoai – Ho Chi Minh City

Day 21: Dong Xoai – Ho Chi Minh City

Distance: 66.21

Time: 5:39

Average Speed: 11.7 mph

The last leg, the final furlong, the end was nigh, all I needed to do was cycle 60 miles and I was done. Not that I was getting complacent, there could be a 5000 metre pass in my way for all I knew. But, after an early climb, the road took a turn for the better, and it was gradually descending for much of the day.

The road passed through a few endless towns, and with little in the way of scenery to keep me occupied, I found other distractions instead. I pondered why there seemed to be a cluster of speakers piping out bird song at the top of every tall building. I noted the fire remains outside every house – assuming them to be some form of New Year’s ritual – and I watched as several women sprinkled salt on the pavements outside their homes, clearly it’s not just Scotland that’s expecting snow.

I passed crashes too, on an otherwise empty section of Highway a car had smashed straight into the back of another, and further along the road, two scooters had had a collision, with one losing its front wheel in the process. Police were in attendance.

It was 34 degrees in the heat of the midday sun, and trying to push on into a 13 mile an hour headwind, I started to fade fast. Taking shelter in the next shop I passed, I downed two ice cold cans of juice and ate a large bag of crisps. Temperature back in check, I was still starving. After many days of running at a calorie deficit, my Bun Bo Hue noodles in the morning clearly hadn’t been enough. I rode on for long enough to find the next Com Ga stall. Approaching the counter the woman stated ‘Com Ga’, and that sounded ideal, a fried chicken wing with a huge pile of aromatic rice and a fresh ‘slaw.

Back on the highway, traffic was light, and most of the businesses along the route were still closed for Tet. The quiet roads made it frustrating at the stop lights as they counted down for 45 seconds or more, with nothing travelling the other way.

Eventually, I found myself on busier roads as the road crossed a huge roundabout under a bridge, then crossed the Sai Gon river into District 1.

After winding my way through the city streets, passed rows of towering hotels, I located my own – the Silverland Yen – arriving just in time for afternoon tea. Later, I took in the views from the rooftop terrace, a moment to reflect on a wonderful trip.

I call this one ‘Orange Juice with Saigon Skyline’.

It had taken me 21 days to cycle from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City, a total distance of 1,196 miles, and an average of 56.96 miles a day.

Vietnam 2020: The Ho Chi Minh Trail

Gearing Up

Since I returned from cycling the Pacific Coast Highway in June 2017, I have been asked countless times if I had any more cycling trips planned. The answer was usually, ‘no, not yet, but I’ve had a few ideas!’ It was always going to take some time before I was ready to undergo a similar trip again. For a start, successfully completing my biggest challenge yet meant that my ambitions were likely to remain higher for future endeavours, and that required me to find a long enough window with which to fit my plans.

Another problem was that, since the America trip, my touring bike had had a fairly tough time of it. In January 2018, I was out for a short cycle not far from home when I changed gear to pedal up a steep hill and there was a loud crunch from the back of the bike. The chain had broken, the rear derailleur had snapped in half and bent the derailleur mounting point on the frame in the process. Not good. In the end, it turned out an absolutely trashed small chainring, from my 2000 mile sojourn, was the root of the problem, and it was really spring 2019 before it was back up and running properly.

Then it was time to start planning something…

Opting to go in January helped narrow the range of possibilities significantly, and in the end I was trying to decide between an End to End of New Zealand or something in South-East Asia. I decided to leave New Zealand until I was feeling less adventurous, so South-East Asia it was. I’d been to Thailand, so not there. A lack of tarmacked roads and a predominance of hills did for Cambodia and Laos respectively, and eventually, it was the lure of a 1000 mile stretch of well-maintained tarmac through rural farmland and stunning karst mountains that won it. So, as of the 4th of January, I’m heading for the Ho Chi Minh Highway – between Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City – in Vietnam!

Hope you can join me,

Michael

To read about my Pacific Coast trip start here:

https://pedaltheglobeblog.wordpress.com/2017/04/30/my-pacific-coast-odyssey/

To read about my Morocco trip:

https://pedaltheglobeblog.wordpress.com/2017/02/22/413-miles-and-endless-hills/