Journey's End

Day 100: Khao Yai National Park (T) – Bangkok (T). After 100 days and 16,000 unbelievable and unforgettable miles the little service bus from Pak Chong crossed the Bangkok City Limits. We had arrived. And whilst our voyage had only ever been about the journey and never about the destination, Karen and I did afford ourselves the luxury of a couple of cocktails down the Khaosan Road by way of celebration. After all, for Karen and me at least, this did represent an incredible achievement.

After a few days exploring the Thai capital and sampling the culture of this, one of the most vibrant cities in South East Asia, we would be boarding a plane to Mumbai and then onwards to London Heathrow where Steve and Alison would be (hopefully!) waiting to take us back to our home in the small Cambridgeshire village of Steeple Morden. In a cramped, metal tube; seven miles high, we will retrace our steps in less than half the distance and one two-hundredth of the time – but where's the fun in that?

And after what has been the most amazing of experiences, if I could be so presumptuous, so arrogant as to offer anybody any advice at all it would be 'Go live your dreams'. It doesn't matter whether those dreams are to travel half way around the planet or to get home from work a little earlier to see the kids before bedtime; go do it now. As Karen and I learnt, when you really put your mind to it it's a lot easier than you think, and believe us; you won't regret it.

But what of Karen and me? What have we learnt from our adventures? Well, in truth, we could easily fill another 112 page blog trying to answer that question! We have learnt so much about ourselves, about each other and about this world and the people that make it such a wonderful place. But for now, by way of closure to our story, let us just leave you with these three observations:

Firstly, we are amazed how resilient the human body really is! For the best part of four months it doesn't seem to have mattered how much we cut, scraped, grazed, bruised, twisted, burnt, punctured, poisoned or intoxicated our bodies they always made a remarkable recovery (thankfully!)

Secondly, we have both rediscovered the phenomenal potency of a simple smile. It didn't matter how threatening or hostile the situation had become, how difficult things seemed to be getting or how dire our verbal communication were – a smile seemed to have the power to make everyone want to work it out: The world's global language.

And finally, the most important thing that Karen and I have both learnt from our amazing experiences is that the overwhelming majority of people are just like us. Meeting someone for the first time, whether they be a hill tribesman from a remote part of Northern Vietnam or the person who has just moved in along the the street, it can be quite easy to see people as different, strange or just plain weird!. But what we have discovered is that if you really spend the time to get to know that person and if you really try to see things from their perspective, then more often than not we found that they have the same basic hopes, fears, and aspirations that we all do. All we needed was patience and a little time.

Take a little time!

Total Mileage: 16,105: Number of Time Zones: 10; Number of Countries Visited: 12; Number of Transport Modes Used: 39 (Bamboo Raft, Bicycle, Bus, Car Ferry, Chairlift, Chinese Junk, Commuter Train, Cyclo, Dog Sled, Funicular Railway, Golf Buggy, Hire Car, Horse, Jamboh, Kayak, Mini Bus, Monorail, Moped, Metro, Moto, Moto Bus, Motor Tricycle, Motorcycle, Passenger Ship, Passenger Ferry, Pick Up Truck, Sail Boat, Sawngthaew, Side-car, Skidoo, Sleeper Bus, Sleeper Train, Speedboat, Swimming, Taxi, Tram, Trolley Bus, TukTuk & Walking.), Maximum Temperature Encountered: +38C, Minimum Temperature Encountered: -32C.

Thank you for reading!

Safari

Day 99: Khao Yai National Park (T). “I suppose this is why they call it the monsoon forest”, I joked to Karen as we stood in the middle of the jungle dripping wet from the torrential rains and up to our ankles in thick red mud and creepy leeches. As this was out last day in Khao Yai we were determined to see as much of the park as possible and so with the help of a couple of local guides we did just that. From dawn until dusk; we trekked it, swam it, drove it and climbed it.

And how are exertions were rewarded. Of all of the national parks that we had visited on our travels, the bio-diversity and the abundance of wild-life was by far the greatest here. With the thick cover of the jungle and the coming onslaught of the summer rains, I wasn't expecting to see too much on our 'safari'. But thanks to our excellent guides, it wasn't long before our wild-life tick list was looking quite impressive: Gibbons, baboons, giant squirrels, deer, elk, eagles, hornbills, monarch birds, scorpions...The list went on and on.

Oh yes, and then of course there were leeches. After Cat Tien and the Cardamon Mountains, you would have thought that Karen and I would have been used to them by now – but this time they beat us, hands down. Diligently, we donned our long trousers, thick walking boots and protective 'leech socks' but despite all of these precautions I still managed to get one of the little blighter's up each trouser leg. The result? Two blood gorged leeches as thick as your thumb and two gaping holes in my legs that wouldn't stop bleeding for over an hour!

As the afternoon came around, the sun finally put in an appearance just as we were arriving at Heaw Suwat waterfall – the one Leonardo di Caprio jumped off in the film 'The Beach'. “Do you see the similarity?”, I shouted from the top of the falls. Humouring me, Karen nodded and continued swimming in the cool, crystal waters amid the myriad of colourful butterflies.

Batty

Day 98: Khao Yai National Park (T). Ever since I was a small boy growing up in Scarborough, I have always had this strange fascination with bats. I don't know why exactly. Maybe it's the memory of those long, warm summer evenings that we just don't seem to get any more. Maybe it's the sound of those high pitch calls that my forty something hearing no longer seems capable of detecting. Or perhaps it was the chilling tales of vampires and the opening credits of Scooby-Doo! What ever it was, the fascination remained into adulthood.

Back home in Steeple Morden, Karen and I often sit outside on our patio with a glass or two of wine watching the aerial majesty of these beautiful creatures. We've even ventured as far as Wimpole Hall, where on a good night, you can see several hundred bats dive bombing the lake in search of food. So when we were told there was a place near-by where we could see several million bats we just had to take a look.

Taking the dirt tracks to the northern edge of Khao Yai National Park in preparation for sunset, it wasn't long before we were bogged down in thick red mud brought on by the summer monsoons. Dumping the 4x4, we walked the last mile or so to the bat cave– our boots feeling like lead weights with the accumulated mud. Ahead of us, high up on the limestone crag, we could see the entrance to the cave - made even more prominent by the presence of half a dozen circling raptors looking for an easy meal.

As the light started to fade we waited and watched. And then, at precisely 6.30pm, with just the vestiges of light remaining, the first bat emerged from the cave and made for the rich feeding grounds of the monsoon forest. For the next hour, the sky was awash with millions of wrinkle lipped bats from this one gargantuan colony, swarming through air in a writhing, snake-like procession until each and every one had departed in search of food. With 1,000 bats per second passing over our heads, their beating wings were so loud they even drowned out the incessant noise of the jungle cicadas. Eventually though the display came to and end and as we wiped the accumulated bat poo from our faces we suddenly realised it was pitch black. Now where did we park that Land-Rover?

Day 98: Total Mileage to Date: 15,926: Number of Time Zones: 10; Number of Countries Visited: 12; Number of Transport Modes Used: 37, Maximum Temperature Encountered: +38C, Minimum Temperature Encountered: -32C.

Monkey Business

Day 97: Nong Khai (T) – Khao Yai National Park (T). Since crossing the Thai border two days previously, Karen and I had been travelling south-westerly in an attempt to reach the tranquillity of Khao Yai National Park: Up there on a podium with the worlds greatest parks, Khao Yai covers almost 900 square miles of central Thailand, rises to some 4,000 ft and covering five vegetation zones including the largest intact monsoon forest in mainland Asia leading to its highly acclaimed Unesco World Heritage accolade.

The beautiful Khaoyai Garden Lodge was to be our home for the next three days, set in a spacious botanical environment right next to the parks southern entrance, it provided the perfect base for Karen and me to explore the park and grab a bit of rest and relaxation. Vibrant flowers, colourful butterflies, magnificent birds and a swimming pool complete with a 10 foot waterfall completed the picture of this tropical wilderness.

And wilderness it was – a fact that I seemed to forget; leading to a rather worrying altercation with a baboon. Completely my own fault, I inadvertently managed to position myself between a cute little baby and its mother. Seeing me as a potential threat, Mrs Baboon charged; snarling and shrieking angrily. As it watched me running down the road, flailing my arms in the air and screaming like a girl, the monkey soon simmered down and returned to its peaceful foraging - obviously realising that despite my size, I wasn't that much of a threat after all!

Picture Perfect

Day 96: Nong Khai (T) – Nakhon Ratchasima (T). Low pressure centred around southern China had finally started to move northwards, bringing with it a deluge of biblical proportion and much needed relief against the intense heat of previous days that had seen the mercury soar to over a hundred degree Fahrenheit.

The blistering heat and humidity that we had suffered over the past few days was not only uncomfortable for Karen and me. The extreme temperatures had put paid to our second memory card making us incredibly thankful that we had continued to back up our digital media. With the best part of 3,000 photographic images so far – these were easily the most valuable thing that we possessed and to loose them now would be nothing short of a disaster. (Note to our friends and family: You have precisely one week to come up with some good excuses in response to our “Would you like to pop 'round and have a quick look at the photo's?” invitations!)

The seven hour bus journey down from the Mekong to Nakhon Ratchasima was a pretty uneventful affair. Our destination: A nondescript town in the centre of Isan. Well off the beaten track where Thai life, largely untouched by the country's booming tourist industry, had been allowed to continue in its own uncompromising way – precisely the kind of place that Karen and I had grown to love!

But even here the successful marriage of East and West was evident: An excellent restaurant just down the road from out hotel, offered the best in delicious Thai cuisine – yam plaa, kuaytiam and spicy tom yam promising tastes of the exotic. Teenage girls in mini-skirts, the menu bound in a folder from Tesco and “Barbie Girl” blaring from the sound system providing pointers to the familiar.

Home Straight

Day 95: Vientiane (LAO) – Nong Khai (T). Built and funded by the Australian Government; opened in 1994 - the Thai-Lao Friendship bridge was the first bridge across the lower Mekong and provided the route for Karen and my final border crossing. On one of our shortest travelling days to date, the short hop from one side of the river to the other saw us entering Thailand; our twelfth and last country.

With the continuing political unrest in Thailand, this border had been seized by red-shirted protesters of the UDD just a few days previously and so it was touch and go whether we would be allowed to make the crossing south. But today, everything seemed peaceful enough; there was no sign of any protesters and we were waved through efficiently, courteously and without incident. In fact, so relaxed were the proceedings that the Lao officials even forgot to collect their customary 'beer money' bribes from us!

But despite the fact we had only travelled a few miles across a thin stretch of water, already Thailand felt very different to the rest of Indochina. Arriving in the North-eastern region of Isan, an area where few Thai's venture let alone any tourists, the contrasts were noticeable to Karen and me. Thailand was considerably more developed, more affluent and more connected than our destinations of the past seven weeks. A comfortable balance between East and West, foreign and familiar. Described as 'the worlds most accessibly exotic location', this would be the ideal place to gently prepare us for our impending return to the UK. But that was still over a week away – until then we had the chance to embark on one final journey of discovery on our road to Bangkok.

Good roads and working services weren't the only differences here. Stepping out into the road in Nong Khai, I soon discover that the traffic drives on the left hand side of the road in Thailand – a transition cleverly managed by a set of traffic lights on the Friendship Bridge and completely unnoticed by me. Fortunately though, the quick thinking of the local drivers meant the incident ended in my embarrassment rather than an unwelcome trip to hospital. Lesson number 6,843!

Stress Relief

Day 94: Vientiane (LAO). Vientiane had come a long way sine Paul Theroux described it in his 1975 book The Great Railway Bazaar as a place in which “the brothels are cleaner than the hotels, marijuana is cheaper than pipe tobacco and opium is easier to find than a cold glass of beer”. Today, the brothels have all have been closed down, the marijuana stands removed and a cold Beerlao is now the nightly drug of choice.

Change is happening fast in the Laotian capital, but unlike other Asian cities I certainly wouldn't use words like 'hustle' and 'bustle' to describe it. This had to be one of the most relaxed capitals on earth and Karen and I soon fell in love with it's unique charm. A fascinating place of contrasts; playing out the struggle between it communist past and inevitably more capitalist future. Where the National Museum glorified the victory over capitalist foreign imperialists whilst another slick restaurant was opening across the street in an area becoming known as one of the best-value dining cities on the planet.

And as with everywhere in Laos, you just have to take things 'nice and easy'. Fortunately, the main tourist sites were relatively close together and so mooching between Pha That Luang, Wat Si Saket and Haw Pha Kaeo was simple enough and when things got too hectic we could always chill out by the river with a couple of cold beers.

As the the afternoon shadows beginning to lengthen we arrived at Wat Sok Pa Luang, a beautiful little temple in a shaded, almost semi rural location. Here, the resident lay people offered us a traditional herbal sauna and an expert massage on the verandah of their little wooden stilt house. For the best part of 2 hours we were pampered, pummelled, pounded and caressed. Later on as we sipped our herbal tea and reflected on the most tranquil and relaxing of experiences, Karen remarked that the masseurs had covered a bit more territory than she was expecting. Unfortunately for me, I had suffered no similar surprise!

Indulgence

Day 93: Pakse (LAO) – Vientiane (LAO). There was no denying it the last week had been some of the most difficult travelling we had encountered on our entire trip. Incredibly exciting, remarkably rewarding – but difficult none the less. And so, as we made our way from the Bolaven Plateau towards the nations capital, we thought we would introduce just a touch of luxury in to our journey.

Lets not get too carried away here, we weren't talking of five star hotels and chauffeured limousines– just a few little things to ensure we didn't arrive back in the UK as physical wrecks. For instance, on the 450 mile journey northwards we spent an extra $10 and opted for the 10 hour air conditioned sleeper bus rather than the 24 hour local bus described as being for people 'with loads of time, no money and a totally masochistic streak'!

Arriving in Vientiane we spent a few extra dollars and found a hotel with running hot water and working air conditioning! Something we had not encountered since Siem Reap, 10 days previously.

And then of course there was the food! After a week of living off bowls full of sticky rice, the cosmopolitan feel of this intriguing capital city gave us access to delicious western food. Like burgers. With cheese slices. And bacon. And mayonnaise. And chips. So good it almost felt sinful!

Beetle Juice

Day 92: Tat Lo (LAO) – Pakse (LAO). “It's back to the pain / pleasure thing again”, I said to Karen as we walked the last few hundred yards back to our simple lodgings. “It was hard work getting here but today we got the rewards!” I was referring to our mornings trekking that had taken us deep in to the forests of the Bolaven Plateau, passing waterfalls and traditional villages to give us the feel of the 'real' Laos.

We had been lucky enough to hook up with Mr Chane, an excellent English speaking Lao guide who had lived in these forests all of his life and knew the land and the people intimately. Which was a good thing: During the Vietnam War Laos became the most heavily bombed country per head of population in the history of warfare and even today the unexploded ordnance on this strategically important plateau still claim the lives of countless innocent people.

The scenery in this isolated part of the world was unbelievably breathtaking, but as always, it was the people that provided us with the truly unforgeable memories. Representing the Katu ethic minority, the villagers of Ngai have a strong culture religiously embracing the practices of animal sacrifice to pay homage to the forest spirits.

With rudimentary agriculture and the cultivation of small crops of peanuts, chillies and coffee beans the tribes people were just about able to sustain their often quite large families (which, from talking to one villager, can often contain 10 – 12 offspring). Quite clearly life is very tough for these enchanting people and they represented amongst the poorest we had met during our 15,000 mile journey – bringing home to me the disparity of the worlds wealth: Back home in England, I wouldn't regard ourselves as 'rich' by any stretch of the imagination, but here I was in Southern Laos, carrying more 'loose change' in my money belt that most of these people earned in a year of incredibly hard graft.

But despite the obvious conditions of poverty, the inspiring thing that Karen and I took away was how happy these people appeared to be. Smiles and laughter. Friendship and interdependence. As soon as we arrived we were warmly welcome into the community to the extent that our hosts insisted we share a 'bamboo pipe' with them. Even the little girl whose job it was to collect the dung beetles from the huge pile of buffalo pooh that littered the village was smiling and giggling with us. Her mother was going to fry them up with some red ant soup. At which point, we decided not to stay for dinner!

Elephant Day

Day 91: Tat Lo (LAO). Reading from the appropriate section of the Laos Lonely Planet, I recited to Karen: “Notable as much for its remoteness as any traditional tourism draws. Tat Lo is not on the way to anywhere and the roads around here remain some of the worst in Laos, but it is these qualities and the lure of tough travel that have begun to attract a few hardy visitors looking to get well-and-truly off the beaten track”. “Hmm. Maybe we should have read that passage before we got on the bus out here!”, Karen replied light-heartedly.

As usual, the worlds most comprehensive travel guide was pretty close to the mark. This was by far the most remote, the most unchanged and the rawest place we had visited so far on our travels and consequently, despite its natural beauty, there was very little in the way of tourist infrastructure here. And that combined with the abject poverty of the region and the naturally laid-back attitude of the Lao people meant that Karen and I were finding life very difficult. Difficult to travel, difficult to communicate and very difficult to find a place to stay!

With only a hand full of guest houses in town our choices were further limited by the fact that most of them were closed: Some in celebration of the Khmer New Year (which, despite officially finishing a week ago, seemed to have by-passed the Lao who were still busy partying twenty-four hours a day) and the highly regarded Tadlo lodge was closed to allow their staff the opportunity to give praise to the elephants!

And what a party those elephant were getting: A band of monks with shaved heads and clad in orange gowns led the festivities which involved prayers, dancing and the consumption of copious amounts of Lao-Lao (incredibly strong rice whisky). And the honoured guests themselves? Well, they were content to watch proceedings from a far, munch on the abundant supply of forest vegetation and have a good scratch against the bark of a shady tree.

Day 91: Total Mileage to Date: 15,099: Number of Time Zones: 10; Number of Countries Visited: 11; Number of Transport Modes Used: 35, Maximum Temperature Encountered: +35C, Minimum Temperature Encountered: -32C.

Hanging Around

Day 90: Don Khon (LAO) – Tat Lo (LAO). Travelling through Indochina had been relatively easy for Karen and me. Never concerned with the formalities of timetables or service routes, we just turned up with a map, pointed to our required destination and we could always find somebody who knew somebody with a moto, tuk-tuk or minibus that could help us on our way – the only thing up for grabs was the price.

But paradoxically, arriving in Laos; the laid back capital of the world – things had suddenly become more difficult for the pair of us. Gone was the enthusiastic entrepreneurialism of the local communities– it didn't matter how many kips or dollars we waved; it was all just too much effort for the Lao. And so Karen and I were back to studying routes and timetables and hanging around pick up points in optimistic anticipation. Not that the buses ran to any published timetables, preferring instead to adhere to the much more relaxed 'whenever' of Lao time.

As always though, taking the local transport option on our 150 mile trip to the Bolaven Plateau town of Tat Lo, proved to be a fascinating insight into local culture whilst providing an endless source of entertainment! With 5 modes of transport necessary to complete the 10 hour journey we journeyed part of the way using a Sawngthaew; Laos' most common form of public transport. Essentially, a converted truck with two wooden benches down each side, these vehicles are capable of transporting about 50 people in bum numbing comfort for as long as they can before breaking down. There's even space on top for a few motorcycles, chickens and pigs (or more people, perhaps?).

At Pakse, we transferred on to one of the oldest and most battered buses we had ever seen. Packed to the rafters and sporting a spiders web of gaffer tape holding together bits of glass that once probably formed the basis of a windscreen. With switchgear long since broken, the driver was forced to fuse bits of wire together whenever he wanted to operate vital equipment like the horn or the indicators. And thoughtfully positioned fans, taking away the edge of the tropical heat that ground to a halt whenever we ascended any hills. Still, Karen and I weren't complaining. This bus had cushioned seats and after our Sawngthaew experience; that was just what we needed to nurse our bruised posteriors!

No Problem

Day 89: Don Khon (LAO). Following the Mekong through three countries, the area of Si Phan Don sees the widest point of this mighty river's 3,000 mile journey from the Tibertan Plateau to the South China Sea. In places the river here reaches over nine miles across, dotted with countless islands and islets – hence it's name, literally meaning: 4,000 Islands.

And this place was without a doubt the most laid back of any of the countries we had visited so far. Laos' national psyche is to take it easy. 'Too much work is bad for your brain', is a commonly held notion amongst it's people. Indeed because of this, education isn't highly valued here with the locals feeling sorry for 'people who think too much'! And as we sat and watched the slow pace of live unfold from the wooden verandah of our little river front bungalow, drinking a few bottles of the mind blowing Beerlao, who were we to argue with such sentiments!

So chilled out was life here on Don Khon that it felt as if the entire island could have gently drifted downriver into Cambodia and barely anybody would have rolled out of their hammocks to take a look. With no motor vehicles, no hawkers and no hard sell, this part of Laos was markedly different from the other parts of Indochina that Karen and I had travelled through. During their colonial years the French eloquently captured these cultural differences: “The Vietnamese plant rice, the Cambodians watch it grow and the Lao just listen!”

At the point when our pulse rate was about to drop into single figures,we decided to embark on Don Khon's extreme sport of 'cycling slowly around the village'! Finding a charismatic couple prepared to hire us a couple of bicycles; the old man puffed on a reefer-sized rollie as he adjusted the seat, checked the tyres, waved us on our way and whispered, “Baw pen nyang.” No problem!

Justice! (well almost)

Day 88: Stung Treng (K) – Don Khon (LAO). By train, by ship, by speedboat and by golf-buggy! Those were the ways that we had transversed our ten border crossings so far. But for Karen and me the one that was missing, the one that we really wanted to do was to walk from country to country.

Arriving in the remote northern Cambodian town of Stung Treng we were inundated with offers to get us effortlessly across the border and into Laos - but this time, as our penultimate border crossing, we wanted to do it our way. Taking breakfast at the excellent Riverside Café, it wasn't long before one of the local Khmer offered us a ride to the border crossing point at Dom Kralor which we gratefully accepted. Travelling the 30 miles from Stung Treng, the remoteness of this part of the world was brought vividly home to us, not seeing a single person for the duration of our journey.

With a notorious reputation for corruption, we had been told that the only way for foreigners to secure safe egress from Cambodia and ingress into Laos at the distant outpost was by paying 'back-handers' to the greedy officials – the going rate: $1 per person per official.

Dropping us us 50 yards from the Cambodian checkpoint, our ride turned around and headed back to Stung Treng, leaving us in the baking sun in the middle-of-nowhere. Slowly, we walked along the centre of the tarmac road until we reached the barrier and the little sentry box, representing the Cambodian border. Sure enough; our hosts requested the usual bribe “For the official stamping out fee”, they said. “OK”, Karen replied very calmly, “Please can we have an official receipt then”. At which point the extremely disgruntled official simply waved us both through without adding to the enormous collection of dollar bills in the large plastic bag in front of him.

“Brilliant!”, I thought, “We've beaten the system. Justice for the people!”. As the guard lifted the barrier we both walked smugly along the 100 yards of no man's land until we reached the officials at the Laos control point. Thinking we were on a roll, I thought I'd try and match Karen's audacity. “Government receipt”, I insisted as he alluded to the $2 'fee'. After a short silence, the elderly official started laughing loudly and then, with a toothless grin said, “This ain't for no government. This is for us...”, he confessed, gesturing towards his colleagues with my passport clutched firmly in his hand, “...to enjoy the New Year celebrations”. You had to hand it to the guy: That level of arrogance, that level of brazen honesty; has got to be worth two dollars of anyone's money!

Hello!

Day 87: Kratie (K) – Stung Treng (K). “It's like a remixed version of the Lionel Richie song”, I joked to Karen as the river bank echoed to the calls of “Hello” coming from the little stilt houses as we cycled along the shoreline of Koh Trong Island.

Lying about half a mile off Kratie in the middle of the Mekong River, Koh Trong is about 6 miles around, making the perfect destination for a morning's bike ride. Catching the early morning ferry, we loaded the bikes along with everything else that people seemed to be taking across to the island: Motorcycles (what else?), provisions, petrol, livestock and people – the familiar sight of travelling in Cambodia! The low river levels on the Mekong at this time of year prevented the ferry from making port at the Island side, so everybody (and everything!) had to wade through the knee high muddy water to cover the the last 100 yards of the journey.

After transversing the sandbank we were soon back on tera-firma, cycling through small hamlets and lush rice paddies tended by farmers with buffalo and wooden ploughs in tow. Along the southern edge of the island; the inhabitants of a small floating village were busy preparing their boats for a mornings fishing. But despite the photogenic scenery, the most memorable and overwhelming aspect of the day was the warmth of welcome offered by the local people. Every household interested to know more about us, waving and bidding their “Hello's”, delighted that the barang (foreigners) had chosen to come to see their remote part of rural Cambodia. In truth; the pleasure was all ours.

Flipper

Day 86: Kratie (K). The continuing celebrations of Chaul Chnam Khmer (Khmer New Year) had the normally quiet riverside town of Kratie filled to overflowing. In fact, so many Khmer had descended on this peaceful little town that Karen and I had found it very difficult to get a bed for the night: Settling as we must, for the for the very last room in a dingy guest house opposite the ferry terminal, for the exorbitantly inflated price of $10 a night.

We however, had not been attracted to Kratie because of the quality of its hotels. We had come to get a glimpse of the incredibly rare irrawaddy dolphin, a native of the upper Mekong. Capable of living in both fresh and salt water, these dark grey cetaceans grow to about 10 feet long and are recognisable by their bulging foreheads and small dorsal fins. They are now an endangered species throughout Asia with shrinking numbers inhabiting this mighty river in Cambodia and Laos and isolated pockets in Burma and Bangladesh. Indeed such is the dolphin's plight that experts now believe there are as few as 75 of these magnificent mammals left in this remote stretch of the Mekong.

Jumping on board a couple of moto's we joined the melee of local traffic on the road north to Kampi. In traffic this congested, cars and bikes constantly brushed against my arms and legs as I clung on for dear life to the grab rail of our aged motorcycle. But our hair-raising journey was well worth it: Reaching our destination we transferred to a long-tail boat and were instantly rewarded by the sight of half a dozen dolphins playing in the deep water pools upstream of the Kampi rapids. Seemingly as curious of us as we were of them they continually criss-crossed in front of our boat, taking deep gulps of air before diving to the depths of the riverbed in their quest for food. Fifty or so photographs of an empty river later, one of the animals was kind enough to pose just long enough for us to get one decent shot. Remarkable.

Another Year Older?

Day 85: Siem Reap (K) – Kratie (K). At preciously 1.36am the night sky was illuminated with hundreds as firecrackers as Cambodia marked the coming of the Khmer New Year. Like Christmas, Birthdays and the New Year all rolled into one this is the biggest event in the country's calendar. And at that precise moment all 15 million Cambodians officially became one year older, regardless of their 'actual' birth date.

Cambodia had been a constant source of pleasant surprises for Karen and me with the result that everywhere we had visited we had stayed a little longer than originally planned. Whilst that in itself didn't present a problem to us, it meant that if we wanted to make it across into Laos we needed to leave Siem Reap to it's New Year festivities and start the long trek North Easterly to the remote border crossing point at Dom Kralor.

Arriving at the bus station, we were still bleary eyed from the night before. Unsure of where we would end the day and how we were going to get there we boarded the first bus heading towards the gateway town of Kompong Cham where we hoped to get passage into rural east Cambodia.

We were not disappointed. Arriving at the little market town we were soon mobbed by a crowd of local people keen to sell us spaces on their minibuses to Mekong town of Kratie. Being New Years Day, prices were incredibly expensive (relatively) and so we spent the next half an hour bargaining hard until we finally settled on the price of $5 a seat. “Good price for you. Good price for me”, the minibus driver declared.

Taking the back roads, the next three hours proved to be a bumpy, dusty ride across unsealed roads through lazy villages and rich agricultural lands. As we had come to expect, the minibus was packed to the rafters – even more so as the local Khmer people were on the move celebrating the festivities with their families. Twenty or so people, a motorbike on the roof, bags of rice in the cabin, one flat tyre, a starter motor that necessitated the use of a lump hammer... – you get the picture.

An interesting addition to this journey though was the transport of eight 10 gallon plastic billy cans of gasoline. Too heavy to go on the roof, the driver stacked them on the floor of the cabin in the space where our feet would normally go. So there we sat with our feet on the fuel, our knees around our ears intoxicated by the fumes emanating from the leaking containers. Which in itself, we could probably handle. What was disturbing though was the fact that despite our explosive cargo our driver insisted on chain smoking an enormous roll-up for the journey's duration. How we didn't end up in outer space I'll never know!

It Never Rains...

Day 84: Siem Reap (K). Throughout our journey the most common question that we had been asked when we recounted our travel stories was “What was the highlight of your trip?”. The answer to which was always simple: “The people that we met along the way”. Whether that be the nomads in the depths of outer Mongolia, the rice farmers in the northern Vietnamese mountains or the like-minded back-packers that we met in the hostels along our route.

Like David for instance, the proprietor of the Babel Guest House in Siem Reap: A crazy opera loving Italian with a passion for the Azzurri, for travelling and for motorcycles (especially if they were red and came from Bologna!). And as soon as we saw him wearing his Valentino Rossi shirt we knew we had to get together to watch the opening round of the MotoGP season – even though that meant setting our alarms for a 2am wake up!

So there we sat; outside on the terrace clutching huge mugs of coffee to keep us awake, huddled around the little TV watching the satellite images beaming from Qatar. The two minute bell sounded: Stoner on pole, totally focussed on the task in hand, Rossi next to him, knowing as well as anybody the importance of drawing first blood at this marvellous circuit.

But wait. What's that we see? Surely it's not rain? In the desert? In April? But it was! As unprecedented as it may have been, a tropical monsoon similar to the one we had encountered in the Cardamon Mountains had descended on Losail and to our (and everybody else's) disappointment, the officials had no choice but to cancel the race.

It was now four o'clock in the morning and we were wide, wide awake. In the sky, the first glimmer of dawn was starting to break through the clouds heralding the signs for another beautiful day. So, in order to make the most from the situation we jumped on board the nearest Tuk-Tuk and headed out to Angkor Wat to witness the new day in the most romantic way possible.

Well, it would have been romantic if I could have got Rolf Harris's 'Sun Arise' out of my head. Still, I think my singing was enough to flummox the bus loads of Japanese Tourists, who seemed to thing this was some kind of pagan ritual! Never the less, a truly memorable and magnificent experience!

Day 84: Total Mileage to Date: 14,481: Number of Time Zones: 10; Number of Countries Visited: 10; Number of Transport Modes Used: 34, Maximum Temperature Encountered: +35C, Minimum Temperature Encountered: -32C.

Ready, Steady, Cook

Day 83: Siem Reap (K). Constantly impressed by the high quality of delicious food that we had tasted on our travels through Cambodia, but frustrated by the fact we couldn't actually get our 'hands dirty' and cook some of these Khmer specialities, we were delighted when the Sala Bai Restaurant School offered to teach us the art of Cambodian Cooking.

Flicking through the recipe books , Karen decided on Fresh Shrimp Spring Rolls followed by Amok (a local fish dish made with coconut milk and served in a banana leaf) and I went for Banana Flower Salad and Tom Yam (a delicious spicy seafood soup). With the difficult decisions out of the way, our tutor, Navin duly escorted us to the local market to buy the fresh ingredients for our culinary creations.

It wasn't long though before, Navin realised that she had her work cut out with me as a student: Stopping by the fish counter I questioned her, “Where did these prawns come from?”, which, after giving me one of those 'you Westerner's really are quite stupid aren't you?' looks, she replied, “Er...The sea?”.

Back in the kitchen we we soon chopping, grinding and blending: Lemon grass, garlic, kaffir, paprika, chillies, turmeric, fish sauce – transforming our shopping trip into authentic tasting Cambodian cuisine.

An excellent teacher throughout, Navin patiently guided us through the techniques of Asian cookery, demonstrating every step. Following the market incident, I think she had me down as a bit of a 'no hoper' and so I received extra special attention. My attempt at assembling the the Spring Rolls probably reinforced her views – Navin's and Karen's rolls looking visually appealing – smooth, symmetrical and round; mine looking more like a badly rolled spliff than a tasty appetiser!

Still, regardless of my sometimes dubious presentation, I have to admit the fruits of our labour were absolutely delicious: Perfectly spiced, beautifully fragranced and cooked to perfection. Bon appetite!

Tomb Raiders

Day 82: Siem Reap (K). “You had me fooled!”, I joked to Karen as she did her best Lara Croft impression at the spot where Angelina Jolie famously picked that jasmine flower before falling through the earth in the 2001 film adaptation of the video game series.

Visiting two of Siem Reap's big hitters: we marvelled at Angkor Wat; the largest and most breathtaking of the monuments at Angkor – widely believed to be the largest religious structure on earth and Ta Prohm; the most atmospheric ruin, completely consumed by the jungle and looking very much the same way today as it did when European explorers first stumbled upon it in the mid 19th Century.

Walking across Angkor Wat's sandstone causeway spanning the 600 foot wide moat, through the outer walls and emerging on the inner causeway was a spine-tickling moment for Karen and me. Covering almost 500 acres, the scale of this site is mind-blowing and enabled the Khmer to give full expression to religious symbolism; representing as it did, a microcosm of the Hindu universe: The central tower being Mount Meru (the home of the gods), surrounded by smaller peaks (the mountain ranges), bounded by the continents (the courtyards) and the oceans (the extensive moat). At close quarters, the detail inside the temple was exquisite with over half a mile of bas-reliefs and over 3,000 carved apsaras (heavenly nymphs). Never completely finished, inscriptions tell us that the construction of Angkor Wat involved over 300,000 craftsmen and 6,000 elephants over an initial 37 year period. “Imagine trying to pin down a tradesman to do your loft conversation at the same time they were building this lot!”, I joked to Karen.

Back to Skool!

Day 81: Siem Reap (K). So far Karen and I had taken a lot from Cambodia. We had taken enormous pleasure getting to know it's people, we had taken incredible memories from its natural beauty and we had taken great courage from the way the country was rebuilding itself from it's turbulent past. And after all that taking, the very least we could do was to try to repay a small part of that debt by giving something in return.

Cambodia has a massive need for outside help. However, partly due to the country's rampant corruption and partly due to the seemingly overprotective (and sometimes ineffective) NGO's, as a tourist it can be very difficult to get involved - no matter how willing you may be. Fortunately though for Karen and me, we had heard of the sterling work being undertaken by Pean Pol at the Rainbow Orphanage about twenty miles west of Siem Reap and we had been kindly invited to help out with the children's schooling.

We have nothing but admiration for Pean who opened the orphanage with his limited funds back in 2005 providing hope for children that otherwise would have ended up in abject poverty (or worse). Today, the orphanage cares for 34 resident children. In addition, 60 or so children from impoverished families in the neighbouring villages also benefit from the education provided by the volunteer team whose commitment makes this place possible. Very few families in this region earn more than $1 a day and almost 90% of orphan children receive no eduction at all but Pean and his team are working night and day to change that, at least for the lucky few he has rescued from the streets. And this was eduction that the kids could really use. Apart from English and Mathematics, Pean has purchased a good deal of land in the surrounding area to teach the children about farming and the environment.

When we arrived at the orphanage, we were expecting to feel sad and sickened by what we had seen. But do you know what, that wasn't how we felt: We actually left feeling inspired. In Western terms, these kids have absolutely nothing: No computers, no I-pods, no Nike trainers. Nothing. But as far as they are were concerned they already had everything they needed: There was always rice on the table (and latterly, because of Pean's farming programme, fresh vegetables too), they were part of a loving community and they were receiving a good education which maybe, just maybe, would allow them to break out of the poverty in which they they live today.

And they were amongst the happiest kids we had ever met. Throughout the day as Karen and I helped them with their English studies, told them the story of our trip from Steeple Morden and joined in their recreational activities – not once did we see a miserable face. Not once did we see a child throw a tantrum or sulk in the corner. Not once did any of the children fight or pick on any of their classmates. They all got involved, all helped each other out and never stopped laughing and smiling.

And that's why I came away completely inspired. If these kids can be so happy, so positive, so content, what right do I have to ever get upset when things aren't going my way? What right do I have to ever think that life had dealt me a bad hand? What right do I have to think “if only...?”

As usual with these things, Karen and I had gone to the orphanage with the intention of giving a little back to Cambodia, but these kids were so fantastic, so inspiring that I'm sure we ended up getting more from the children than they did from us! The most incredible day ever.