Karen'sTardis Bag

If you come away as well prepared as Karen,  then you need to ensure you have a Tardis bag in which to keep all your  snacks, suncream, inhalers, etc. Who would have thought so much could fit into something so small.....

Day Six in pictures

Day Six: Mission Accomplished!

The Hotel Zewkabin served us well for the now traditional dinner dishes with the added novelty of them being served on a lazy susan. The party headed to bed at about 2100. No communication home due to an earlier storm knocking out the mobile cell. (Myanmar's pretty good WiFi network has been established over a mobile phone network built by the Norwegian and Qatari mobile phone companies).
So a delay in posts I'm afraid.  By the time you read this and yesterday's blog we'll be back at the Hotel Clover in Yangon.

So day six dawned.  Alarms at 0530,  breakfast at 0600 and on the bus  for an early morning tourist jaunt to the Kyauk Kalap Pagoda - an eye wateringly beautiful stupa on the top of a limestone outcrop surrounded by water. In the long shadows of the early morning this will surely be one of the images of Burma that will last with us all for a long time.  Could this have been the inspiration for the Avatar movie?

Back to the hotel?  But just to mount our bikes and set off for the final 50km of the adventure.  Where has the week gone?

A glorious ride as the rural day to day activity started its daily routine.  We were passed by many dumper trucks and lorries,  the majority would definitely fail their MOT in the UK. But three or four pristine yellow trucks and a huge articulated flatbed with an excavator stood out.  'a present from the people of Japan'  declared a sticker on their cabs.  Another sign of how things are changing here.

The sheer beauty of the landscape is hard to put in words.  At one bridge crossing the rocks outcrops and broad confluence of  number of waterways would, in so many other countries, be a tourist hot-spot.  How long before the hotels are built on the banks?

A great morning's cycle at super pace kept us all together and we made very good headway.

We pulled off after about 30kms to visit the Kaw Gun caves.  As monastery in habited by lively monkeys and built around hot springs that provided relief for tired feet and, in the case of Adam, Peter G and me, full bodily immersion!

Soggy cycle shorts were not ideal for the final push, but we only had ourselves to blame! The moment of truth was just a few kilometres away. the moment we would say farewell to our trusty bikes of the last few days and the last chance to shout 'mingalaba' to the incredulous Burmese on the roadside, to see their faces erupt into the most wonderful endearing smiles.

We regrouped just before the final 6km for a quick puncture repair to Ben's bike, and to allow an advance party to enjoy the last opportunity to stretch their legs to the finish line where we were greeted by Crispin and his horn. We so missed him on our last leg today, but he sensibly stayed in the cool of the bus, feeling far from 100%.

The timings of the the final 6km tell a story:
1km:3.48 mins, 2km:2.28 mins, 3km:2.13 mins, 4km:2.03mins, 5km:2.07 mins, and finally 6km:1.44 mins. Slightly downhill on a great road surface it was a wonderful conclusion to the athletic exertions of the past 5 days. Chance to pick up a bit of speed and head to the line.

And that was that. 345.25km (215.94m miles) conquered. 

We pulled over, dismounted our bikes for the last time and stripped them of our customisations in broiling heat. Did we really cycle in that?! Saddles removed and we sat down to a celebratory drink and chicken noodle lunch. Boy, did that beer taste good!

And then we retracing the route we cycled by bus for a long transfer back to Yangon accompanied by torrential rain.  As I write I'm surrounded by reclined chairs, open mouths, sweat-drenched cycling jerseys drying from the curtain rails. Contented exhaustion sums it up perfectly.

A night of celebration in Yangon awaits before visiting the reason for all this: the orphanage which will benefit from all of the generous donations that spurred us all on at our lowest ebb.

Let there be no doubting the physical challenge of the whole enterprise. The long flight, the lack of sleep, the jetlag, the inevitable tummy rumbles, the heat, the hills.

But the friendships made, the prospect of the first cocktail in The Strand Hotel tonight, and above all the £25,000+ money makes that all worthwhile.

Bravo everyone! We done good!!

Day Five: Where's Wally?

The delights of the hotel continued to please. Dinner was served in the banqueting hall,  but no-one leapt on the stage to perform. Dinner felt very civilised with attentive staff and the usual diet of rice, chicken and nuts, beans watercress and garlic. Our guides left us looking ready for a big night on the town with pressed shirts and big anticipatory grins.  Clearly there's something about Malwyamine for  young men to dress up for.  We retired to the terrace for some Dutch courage beer style in anticipation of the big hill tomorrow.

Morning dawned with a nice breakfast on the same picturesque terrace with a view over the river - as long as you didn't look too closely at the magnitude of rubbish washing up along the shore.

At 0745 we were ready to board the bus out of town. But we were missing our guides! Stef called Wallace to be told they had a problem with the van.  We suspect their cover was blown when they rocked up about 40 minutes later looking rather worse for wear and wearing the same clothes they had left for their night out!

The morning did indeed start,  rather later than anticipated,  with a big hill. Even the Budda at the top was reclining.

In fact I think it was over more quickly than billed. We were joined by our own police escort for much of the morning: a sort of Burmese CHiPs.... On a moped.

As we came down the other side of the mountain the landscape changed to lush green pancake flat paddy fields surrounded by mountains and interrupted by rocky outcrops. In short, spectacular.

Equally as spectacular was the concentration required to cross the two suspension bridges, each almost a kilometre. The cycle path was just two feet wide or else we risked tye peril of tyre sized gaps between the iron slats.  And just to add to the thrill the second bridge had missing sections of safety rail.  Thrill seekers will enjoy this video: I love Clive's punch of the air when he reaches terra firma.

Lunch in a small restaurant run by an enthusiastic young chap was punctuated by a couple of illnesses: poor Kirsty and Crispin succumbing to the heat, or a bug, or both. Once back on our bikes we completed another 27kms along a straight, flat tree lined road flanked by large paddy fields and waterways with impressive mountains for a backdrop and our day in the saddle was complete. Our last few kms completed in the first rain of the trip and we finally also cracked the skill of cycling as a group by now.

At one of our regroup stops Wallace was approached by three men from Burma's SkyNet TV channel asking for an interview when we got to the hotel. Stardom at last! I'm sure our pace clocked up a notch as the camera car drove past.  Not just the villagers we've passed on out travels, but now the whole country will be able to witness the invasion of Stef and Crispin's florescent lycra army!

On the way to the Hotel Zwekabin we stopped at the field of a thousand Buddhas, situated at the foot of an imposing mountain that glowed an eerie ruddy colour as the sun set. Rachel, in particular, was purring as we drove into the hotel grounds...a collection of lodges nestled below the mountain. We'll wake up to quite a view.

So a further 64km added to the tally today. There's no doubting this is a real challenge with ripples, undulations, and hills to conquer, and each of us have had our own personal moments where the challenge felt like it could beat us.  But it's a great group, and it's amazing how many more kms you can complete, that you really didn't know you had in you when a cycling buddy comes up alongside you and kicks off a conversation...

So who are those buddies? I haven't had a chance to mention everyone yet,  so here's this action movie's cast list:

Producer: Crispin
Director : Stef

Leading Ladies
Donna
Kate
Gemma
Kirsty
Margaret
Lisa
Rachel
Karen

Main Men
Alan
Marc
Ben
Clive
Peter G

Fathers & Sons
Peter W & Adam
Stephen & Ed
Crispin & Sam

Screenplay
Chris

Day Four in pictures

Day Four: As authentic as it gets

Sadly last night's accommodation did not provide any of the luxuries that we craved. In fact it didn't have many of the basics that we needed!
The town of Tha Hton is well off the beaten trail, so the town is not blessed by many options for 20 British cyclists.  So this was a night that few of us will forget in a hurry, the party split between two different guest houses. The names were nice enough, Yellow Cloud and Blue Cloud, but not every cloud has a silver lining:
Up to three of us shared windowless rooms, and even beds. We swapped tales of plastic chairs,  unorthodox wiring, showers that didn't work, and hotel staff who tried to fix it by turning on the TV.  Yes, there was TV and that worked fine, but it was about the only thing that did.  Sadly we didn't have a Burmese equivalent of Basil Fawlty present to complete the experience.

To continue the authentic theme, dinner was in a very local Chinese restaurant. Tonight was clearly going to be a night to cope with,  although in fact the food was pretty good and a drop of Grand Royal whisky as a night cap eased us to bed!

Day Four dawned with quite a few reporting unexpectedly good nights sleep. A 7 start this morning,  and authenticity continued as we headed to a local tea house for breakfast.  Crouching on nursery sized chairs we marvelled at the efficiency we were each served two eggs on toast and tea or nescafe (or in some cases both mixed together)

 And then to the task in hand. We were reunited with our bikes just outside the town and pedalled along a fairly busy road but with views and experiences to compensate : two tuk tuks with even bigger sound systems than we saw yesterday complete with jiving young men walking directly in front of the cacophony.

At one water stop we were encouraged across the road to meet a five families who lived in one small compound of teak houses on stilts.  They were just as curious of us as we were of them. Ben was, in their eyes, the special one,  receiving many admiring comments for his height, pale complexion and good looks. And had we not rescued Kirsty I think they would have been more than happy to welcome her to their family for good.

  A short photo stop at a waterfall for the team shot wearing our Hope Asia challenge t shirts and we pressed on to complete 48km at our lunch stop.  A chance to relax in the shade was most welcome as we waited for the food to be freshly cooked for us.  A most pleasant experience experience provided you didn't need to go to the loo.  Post lunch there was even a chance for some to catch 40 winks. I'm not relishing the prospect of seeing the photographic evidence of that.

Another 10km and we arrived at one side of a bridge spanning and vast waterway - 3km in fact which was a joy to cycle over. Then a leg burning hill climb to a spectacular view point

and a pleasant downhill run and waterfront cycle to the Hotel Attran as the heavens darkened and thunder rumbled around us. 

This couldn't  be more different to yesterday as we were welcomed with iced jasmine scented face towels, chilled orange juice (10% juice content?) and the sun sank below the horizon on the other side of the river.

Just as authentic but in a rather more agreeable way.

Day Three in pictures

Day Three in pictures

Day Three: Eat your heart out ice bucket challenge

Alarms set for six and tasty omelettes and toast at 6.30pm,  accompanied with tales of many things going bump in the night...outside our rooms I hasten to add!

Bikes ready and after a few mechanical fixes we head off at 0730. A glorious morning and we basked in the coolness as we headed back to the town.  Sadly though the overnight mechanical fix on Stephen's bike was not up to the job, forcing an unscheduled stop in the town centre.

And forcing a unique insight into morning life, Myan style. The school children heading to class,  and sweeping the school yard before lessons,  the tuk tuk taxis waiting for fares, the slow moving lorry warning other traffic by the man with a bell on top of the cab.  Odd glances were passed to the lycra clad be-helmeted cyclists, but nothing like the sort of commotion we might have expected. Perhaps the modesty of these people is reflected in the unfazed way we are greeted wherever we go. None of the constant cries of hello we encountered everywhere in Cambodia. Or perhaps it's just sheer incredulity at the sight we present.

The following cycle was glorious. Through villages, paddy fields: a privileged view of everyday rural life from small roads that the handful of tinted tour buses could never. And the most stunning scenery to go with it all. Wonderful.

Amongst todays sights to remember; the goatherd and her herd,  the ricketiest tin shed toilets ever (it was probably most unwise Crispin and I went in to the two cubicles at the same time), so many dead snakes on the road that I quickly lost count) and a political meeting of the people's democracy party with posters of Aung San Suu Kyi to the fore.

Lunch gave us a welcome break from the saddle at the Golden Glass restaurant in Kyaikhtisaung. A large concrete floored room that reminded me of Aylesbury bus station terminus c 1976. Never ending plates of prawn curry, lamb curry, dried chilli and chicken soup. But most welcome was the personal fanning service from the cheerful waitresses. You don't look cool and sophisticated when you get off your bike drenched in sweat- as must have been  pretty apparent to these young ladies. Kate looked right at home when she joined the serving staff for a perfect photo opportunity. One felt it was best not to ask what was in some of the pots!

The water stop some 20 kind later was an absolute necessity. The going was unbelievably hard for us in the midday heat - c40°, and an undulating road that in the UK would have been a breeze. Oh, for a coool breeze! Adam, Ben, Ed, Crispin and I decided to go one better than the ice bucket challenge... Nothing, but nothing at that point in time was better than an ice-cold bottle of water over the head.  We decided to break for an hour chatting, napping or, yours truly, blogging as we gave ourselves a bit of time to allow the heat to subside.A wise move welcomed by each and everyone of us.  

We hit the road again at 1500 much refreshed, joining the many school children heading home on their bikes. At 1700 we drew stumps having completed 77.7km. An heroic effort on top of yesterday's 94km.

After a day like that we all agreed that a little pampering wouldn't go amiss. A pool perhaps,  Molton brown toiletries,  and maybe even just as at lunch someone to fan you down......

to be continued......

Day Two : Hot, damn hot!

39 degrees is hot.  Damn hot.  I probably didn't need to come to Burma to find that out.  But if you  need  any convincing try cycling 94km in it, which is what we did today!
Everyone was remarkably chirpy at we met for breakfast at 0530. A special buffet awaited us of fried rice and stir fried vegetables, chocolate éclairs, cornflakes (Donna had two bowls),  omelettes......
Then into our now-familiar (and cool) bus for our transfer to the rendezvous point to pick up the bikes. En route we stopped at the Taukkyan Allied War Cemetery about 10 miles out of the city.  An extraordinary place of tranquillity and reflection amongst the bustle and heat of daily Burmese life: the sun was rising directly behind the monument to so many  brave young men. The neat rows of small plaques only told half the story.  On the vast commemorative archway the following dedication said so much, in so few words:

"Here are recorded the names of 27000 soldiers of many races United in service to the British crown who gave their lives in Burma and Assam but to whom the fortune of war denied the customary rites accorded to their comrades in death"

Next stop, the all important introduction to our bikes, in a lay-by just south of Bago in the Mon State. These steeds would be both best friends and figures of hate for the next days. Getting acquainted was remarkably free of faff ! Bar ends and saddles, those familiar comforters from cycles back at home,  Go-pros and handle bar bags attached and we off!

A gentle pace along a large road was the theme to lunch. The regular snack and water stops (every 10k) a godsend. Its a feature of these rides that you eat rubbish that you'd never dream of touching at home -vanilla wafer slices, double happiness peanut bars, corn chews, crisps, cashew nuts and even some freshly cut apple. but boy does it all taste good! After 35 miles we pull into a roadside restaurant at Sittaung Bridge (Moppalin). A great lunch accompanied by diaoralyte: not because of illness but just to rehydrate. A few shakes and wobbles amongst us as we acclimatise to the heat - we're all drinking lots but sweating in equal measure.  The food was good.  Chicken noodles.  The 'entertainment' was not so good.  Roadside stalls seeking donations to buddist foundations always have a man or woman chanting through powerful speakers that wouldn't be out of place at the ministry of sound. And we had two nearby in full-on competition with each other!As my father would say, 'it was lovely when it stopped'!

The afternoon we cycled another 20 miles to the Mountain View Hotel in a bustling town called Kyaikhto. The final few miles were a reward for the challenge of earlier in the day.  Relatively cool as dusk approached. 

The hotel was a sprawling set of small lodges set between red earth driveways.  Comfortable, clean and thankfully the showers were pretty decent to wash away the dust and sweat of the first day's endeavours. 

A good dinner in the semi-dark to avoid the many bugs and beasties buzzing the lights. 

Contented sleep tonight on the menu tonight, I think, and not an inconsiderable number of aching legs..... 

Day One: Chips and Chopsticks

Rangoon is a long way from Reading. Or Wandsworth, Fulham or Birmingham for that matter. And day one was all about getting here.
Our rendezvous at Heathrow terminal 2 passed off without a hitch despite word of the inevitable m4 traffic.
Half term at Heathrow is not a place for anyone in a hurry. And anyone hoping that the 'print your own bag tag' system was a process improvement were to be proved wrong. But if like me you are output focused everyone's bags made it to RAH via BKK.

We were scattered around the lurid pink seating of Thai Air's economy class without knowing for sure who was one of our 20.... But a cycle helmet strapped to cabin baggage was a good clue!

12 hours, 5 movies, 2 snacks and a few complimentary drinks later we arrived in a hot Bangkok. But from the shiny air-conditioned marble shopping emporium that is Bangkok airport the condensation on the windows is the only thing that gives away the heat and humidity outside.

A one hour hop to Rangoon (or Yangon) on even pinker seats and the plinkiest background music ever. As we landed amidst a construction site that immediately gave away the rapid development and ambition of this country we agreed that we'd had enough plane travel for a week.

Immigration was smooth although I'm not sure I'll ever have the chance to stand in the line apparently reserved for disabled seamen again. We were greeted by a very special welcome committee.... The radiant smiling faces of some of the children that this week is all about. 

Pristine notes exchanged for kyat at the rate of $1 to 1000k and we were our bus, greeted by our guides for the week: Coffee and Wallace.  I wonder if there's a Nick Park animation in there somewhere....

Despite the jet lag sleep deprived woozy-ness a few folk joined Crispin at the church connected to the children's home. A joyous, noisy and hot affair by all accounts.

The others headed straight to the Hotel Clover, apparently the pinnacle of the standard for our accommodation for the week ahead.  I sense a welcome return to its relative comforts at the end of the week!

20 tired Westerners was a bit more than the restaurant we went to for lunch could cope with, and the menu of Thai/Chinese/Burmese/Western food along with salads and chips was a bit more than we could cope with in our semi comatose state.  But the food came, eventually. The chips served with chopsticks - eat your heart out, East West fusion.

At 5pm after snatched rest or an exploration of the sadly dilapidated botanic gardens across the street from the hotel we set off for the most holy of places in Burma. The enormous gold Shwedagon pagoda that dominates the Yangon skyline. No building is permitted to be taller.  As the sun set we joined the melee of barefooted tourists and locals to witness this extraordinary complex, shimmering in the failing sunlight and piercing floodlights buzzed by thick swarms of bats and flies - happily well above the reach of the deet-embalmed skin below!

Despite, or perhaps because of, the many people here there was a wonderful sense of serenity and real life all coming together beneath the gold pillars, hundreds of Buddhas,  peanut oil fuelled torches and smoking scented sticks.  People kneeling in devout prayer,  tourists snapping pictures,  whole families sharing dinner from silver tiffin boxes.  An extraordinary place.

No one faceplanted into their food at the dinner that followed,  but after more than 24 hours on the go, no one complained when we headed back to the hotel at 8.30pm. After all we're up and off at 5.30am tomorrow morning.

We've arrived....

Through customs,  everyone has their bags,  and now changing our pristine dollars into kyat.  1 usd= 1000 kyat......

Reading to Rangoon part 4

12 hours later and a smooth flight into Bangkok. Just time for a coffee before  boarding the flight to Yangon.  And the magic number spurring us on.... Over £25,000k...and counting! 

Here we go.....

So here we go.. All assembled at t2 despite the best efforts of the self printing baggage ticket and check in machines at terminal 2.
Next stop Bangkok.. In our pre flight briefing Crispin has shared the fundraising scores on the doors.  I'll save that nugget for the stop over blog. 
Next update after 12 hours of my legs wrapped round my ears.