Being a backpacker for the day: On a bicycle

January 19, 2015

My anger at Don Det had subsided by morning and, no longer beset by such unjustifiable rage against my fellow travelers, I resolved to enjoy the day. It started nicely enough too, with my hammock a perfect place to watch the locals head out on their boats first thing in the morning. Luisa came around to use the free wifi that my bungalows had (not only was her bungalow about to drop into the river at any moment, it didn't even have free wifi!) As we were sitting around outside Paloma came along on a bicycle that she had rented to explore the island (wherever did she get that idea?!) and I grabbed my bicycle and went with her.

I had nothing to complain about with the early morning view from my hammock

We soon stopped at a restaurant-cafe-bar-thing on the western side of the tip of the island, the so-called 'sunset strip' where Paloma ate breakfast. Arriving there we were greeted by a very enthusiastic young American man named Robert who came at us with a bushy beard and his cap turned backwards. He seemed like he'd been traveling a while and had run out of money and had taken on a job here, although I'm not sure he could be making much money seeing as the cafe owners could just as easily have hired a local for almost nothing. He also did seem to be a little bit stoned. It was a real backpacker place, with graffiti on the walls and everyone who was sitting on the floor eating (I couldn't remember ever having been made to sit on the floor in an actual Laos restaurant, but what did I know about it) of course was white. I asked Robert if I could have a banana shake, and he said I most certainly could, although by the time Paloma finished her breakfast it still hadn't arrived. I mentioned it to Robert on our way out. "Oh sorry man," he said through glazed eyes, "I don't think I ordered it."

But I've cycled 35,963 kilometres! Oh well, never mind, look how close Bali is!

Paloma was a funny sort of girl with a spiky attitude, and possibly the first Peruvian that I had ever met, although she'd been working as an architect in South Africa for a number of years. At the very least she intrigued me, and so we set off to explore Don Det and Don Khon together on our bicycles. Paloma had only recently learnt to ride a bicycle, and she was still not so very confident. She cycled with a very concentrated look on her face, and couldn't take either hand off the handlebars without falling. As a result she had to pull over and stop every time that she needed to scratch her nose. It was a good job none of the locals were waving to us here.

There were a lot of other tourists on bicycles, that being the thing to do here, and so we rode in almost a procession at times along the sand tracks of Don Det and across the old railway bridge to the next island of Don Khon. The French built a railway across these two islands because there is no safe passage by river all the way through the Four Thousand Islands area, and the railway was supposed to connect the upper and lower parts of the Mekong, but it never really caught on and there were now few signs of the railway except for this bridge. The reason for the lack of a waterway through this area was a series of waterfalls, the most impressive of which we wanted to see, and so we followed the 'falang trail' out to it.

The bridge between Don Det and Don Khon was a bit of a falang congestion zone

I balked at the 35,000 kip entrance fee, but once I got to see the Li Phi Falls I didn't mind so much, as I thought them most impressive. I can't be bothered to try and describe them, so here are some pictures.

Well I can't see why the French couldn't get their steamers through here

Look, that bit is wide enough for a steamer

No sense of adventure, that's the trouble with the French

Next Paloma and I cycled further south to a beach where, upon our arrival, a Lao man shouted "Sabadee" to us. And then, almost immediately a Lao woman cried out "Sabadeee" to us too. For a moment it was almost like being back in the real Laos again. If only they hadn't been competing to get us to go into their tourist-filled restaurants. We politely said hello to them but walked past and went to explore the beach. It was a really big white sand one in a beautiful area of islands. I found a place where there weren't any other people, and swam out to a big rocky island just offshore. I proclaimed it as mine. Paloma watched, unimpressed, from the beach. I didn't fear an invasion from her, she couldn't swim.

Paloma didn't like me taking her photo, but she's in this one of the beach and my island. She's quite small, try and spot her

We were both back on the main beach when Luisa arrived, with a German man named Lucas and two English guys, Julian and Ben, the latter of whom had a most fantastic handlebar moustache. We all relaxed on the beach for a while, and then cycled back to Don Det, stopping to watch the sunset from the bridge on the way. In the evening I met up with everyone again for dinner (minus Paloma, who didn't seem to like people that much.) It turned out that all the rest were keen cyclists, particularly Julian, who had a touring bike and was set to head off on a tour of Europe soon. Him and Ben made an odd pair, what with Ben's moustache and Julian having long hair tied back in a ponytail, and the two of them nodding in unison with the slight air of people that might have had one or two 'happy' shakes in their time. Great guys they were though, really nice, and it wasn't half a pleasant evening sitting and talking bikes with them all.

Alright, I'll admit it, this backpacker crowd wasn't so bad after all.

I felt I'd earnt the right to buy a 'Been There, Don Det!' souvenir t-shirt now. But I didn't

19/01/15 - 14km unloaded

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