February 13, 2015
Again? Really?: Another day to survive
After a day off in Preah Vihear it wasn't until I resumed cycling the following day when the full impact of the accident scene really hit home for me. For some reason it seemed like all of the motorcycles that were overtaking me now were passing far too close. I kept imaging that poor man's face all covered in blood, a vivid image in my mind, and I felt scared and angry that I had to share the road with dangerous vehicles. Of course I'd been sharing the road with dangerous vehicles for years, but now it all seemed more real. I knew just exacty what could happen. I saw a motorcycle come up right behind me in my mirror, and only swerve at the last minute, and miss me by inches. As he passed I noticed that the rider was texting as he did so. I got mad and tried in vain to chase him down and give him a piece of my mind.
I would have felt much more optimistic about surviving this traffic had it not been Friday the 13th yet again. As readers with considerable devotion and memory will recall, I'd already survived Friday the 13th scares with Russian aliens, Slovakian serial killers and Tajik angry mobs, but those horrors pailed in comparison to a Cambodian in charge of a motor vehicle. A big car overtook on one of the few right hand corners. It beeped loudly as it approached, indicating that it had seen me, but was so keen to take the racing line that instead of moving around me it brushed past me so close that I could have reached out and touched it (I'd have broken my arm in the process, but I could've). At the speed it was going if it had've hit me it would surely have killed me. It occurred to me that this was a bit like having bullets fly past your head, and I started to ask serious questions such as 'Why am I doing this?', 'Is this really worth it?', and 'How soon can I get to Thailand?'
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Salvation finally came when the road split in two, and most of the traffic went the other way. This left me with much more pleasant cycling on a quiet road through land that was partly cultivated and partly on fire. Wooden stilt houses sat precariously close to these fires, dotted all along the route a few hundred metres apart, with families often sitting beneath them and the children always crying out 'hello' or 'byebye' when they saw me.
The fact that so many children cried out 'hello' meant I really should have come up with a more creative shout when I saw two bicycle tourists riding along in my direction as I took a break behind some trees. They hadn't seen me, because I was sort of hiding from the road, and so I shouted out 'hello, hello', but this unimaginative greeting would no doubt have seemed to them to be coming from some hidden young local, and on they went. But I wanted the company, and so I stuffed the rest of my sandwich in my face, and gave chase.
They had a couple of minutes start on me, but the road was long and straight and I could see them way up ahead of me. I pedalled as fast as I could, much faster than I normally would, in order to reel them in. But reel them in I did not. Dammit they were actually pulling further ahead of me. Jeez they were fast. I tried pedalling harder, but that just made me out of breath, and I gave up and resumed my usual lonely plod.
But then a few miutes later the two cyclists unexpectedly emerged from the trees just ahead of me, having evidently stopped for a toilet break or something. They were not more than a hundred metres ahead now, but still hadn't seen me and began pedaling away again. This was turning into a real pursuit now. I decided to go all out and cranked down furiously on the pedals. I began to draw them in, gradually, bit-by-bit, until finally I caught them, and, red-faced and panting, said "you... two... are... really... fast."
Thankfully we stopped to exchange stories. They were a French couple with great hats. The man's name I think was Rafael, although I can't be sure. The woman was definitely called Sandrine. I remember because she didn't give me any money. Surprisingly enough they were on a bicycle tour around South East Asia. We cycled together for a little while, but they had to go much slower than usual in order to appease me, and after an hour or so of pleasant conversation they decided to go on ahead. As we stopped to say goodbye another cycle tourist suddenly appeared, going the other way, this one a Scottish man in a hurry.
After all that excitement I was on my own again as I rode on a bit further before setting up camp in a burnt out area of land amongst piles of ash and smoldering tree stumps. Another Friday the 13th had been survived.
Today's ride: 80 km (50 miles)
Total: 37,147 km (23,068 miles)
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