February 24, 2015
Yet another accident: Don't worry, I had my helmet on
Thailand has some of the most dangerous roads in the world. In fact, whilst I was in Bangkok I'd been informed that in terms of number of deaths compared to population size it ranks in the top three places in the entire world where you are most likely to meet your maker on the roadways. This information came as a bit of a surprise to me because after my first visit to the northeast of Thailand I'd come away with the impression that the roads were generally quite safe and the drivers quite courteous. But I'd spent very little time on any of the highways then, sticking primarily to the quiet little back roads. But this morning I was faced with the challenge of returning once again to the main motorway, now downgraded from its previous incarnation as the mighty Rama II to the less-intimidating-sounding #35 road, but it remained no less terrifying under the circumstances.
One fact which came as less of a surprise was that 70-80% of those fatalities are motorcyclists not wearing helmets. And it seemed even less surprising as I struggled to rejoin the #35 highway searching for a break in the procession of helmet-less motorcyclists that were going in completely the opposite direction to the flow of traffic. When I did eventually rejoin the motorway I was not comforted by the fact that it had a wide shoulder in the way that I usually would have been, on account of the large number of helmet-less motorcyclists that were now coming the wrong way down it towards me. On the f*cking motorway.
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This was definitely enough to incite me to a throw-my-cap-down type of anger, but as my cap was presently stuck beneath my own helmet I was not able to release it. This did at least provide me with an additional justification for my new helmet - saving me from getting my cap dirty. And fortunately as I moved beyond the city of Sakon something the number of motorcyclists going the wrong way decreased and I was able to relax (slightly) as I continued along the shoulder of the fast-paced highway. But almost as soon as I'd decided that it was safe to relax slightly I heard a screeching noise just ahead of me and looked up to see a white car out of control. How exactly it came to be out of control I could not say, but it most certainly was out of control, moving as it was suddenly at high speed in a direction of travel perpendicular to everyone else. It was about 200 metres ahead of me and the whole thing reminded me very much of a movie, because it isn't often that you see such things in real life. It went from the fast lane, across the middle lane, across the slow lane, across the shoulder, and slammed head-on into a concrete wall with such velocity that it bounced right off again and spun to a halt back out in the roadway, much more crumpled than before.
I quickly pulled up on the shoulder away from trouble in case there was a pile-up as more vehicles came speeding down the highway toward the wreckage, but luckily that didn't happen. If I'm honest I wasn't exactly keen to be first on the scene either. It was a horrific crash, I was sure there would be serious injuries at least, and frankly I was getting sick of the sight of blood by now. It came as quite a surprise, then, to see all four doors open and all of the vehicle's occupants walk, somewhat shakily, to the side of the road. It was, I think, an extraordinary testament to modern car design that, as the front of the car disintegrated on impact, the rest had remained intact and protected its inhabitants. I was just pleased that I wasn't going to have to remove anymore chewing gum from unconscious mouths.
I cycled on past the wreck of the car, steam fizzing out from what remained of its engine. I thought about asking if everyone was okay, but apart from no doubt being in shock they all looked quite alright, and paid me no attention at all as I passed them. Had I said anything at all it would have been: "Well done for wearing your seat belts."
Even though everyone had walked away from this accident it did not escape my attention that had I been 200 metres further up the highway I undoubtedly would not be walking anywhere for a very long time. I wanted to get off the highway as soon as I possibly could. Unfortunately the reason why I was even on it, that being the fact that it was the one and only road going west, still remained valid. At least it was the only road on my map, maybe there were some smaller ones I could find, and so I had the good idea to check on google maps. I stopped at a restaurant to use the wifi. A good idea of the restaurant owner to have wifi, to attract custom from the likes of me, just a shame the restaurant owner failed to tell the staff what the wifi password was. So I couldn't use the wifi there and instead carried on and came to a gas station where there was a similar failure of anyone to know what the password was for the free wifi. By this point I was in such fits of despair that one of the gas station attendents took pity on me and showed me a map on his phone. I found that there were indeed some small roads that I could take further south and this news filled me with such intense joy that I almost jumped up and kissed the man.
Oh, and these roads, when I got on them, were so quiet and peaceful, and such an extraordinary relief after the noise and danger of the highway. There was almost no traffic, it was a beautiful thing. And these little roads were surrounded everywhere by rectangular pools of water that I soon realised were salt farms. Now, I don't really know how salt farming works, but I guess the pools fill up with water from the sea and then evaporate leaving the salt. Most of the pools were just water, but some of them were whiter than others, and I think the process must be repeated a lot, because in the places where they were finished and were collecting the salt there was really a lot of salt.
I had to rejoin the #35 highway one last time, but I knew that I could soon turn south and that my sordid association with this road would finally be over forever, the only question being where this road south was. After already making one wrong turn and then retreating to the highway I stopped at another gas station with misplaced optimism about finding a wifi connection to figure out where I was. As I pulled in I noticed two rather clean, well-maintained, and lightly-loaded touring bicycles and a couple of blonde-haired, blue-eyed strangers sitting nearby them. They were a Polish couple with unpronounceable names, and they had just begun their three week tour of Thailand that very morning from Bangkok. Given that I'd left Bangkok a whole day before them I didn't even consider the possibility of us riding together. "Oh yes, we like to go fast" the girl said, her being the one to do all the talking as her husband's English wasn't so very good. "The road south is just around the corner, less than a hundred metres" she explained, which was such a huge relief I could have jumped up and kissed her. But her husband was quite big.
The Polish couple soon disappeared off ahead but the road south was, as promised, just around the corner and it was like paradise after the highway. There was even, believe it or not, a bicycle lane. Heading south through Thailand on a quiet road, with a bicycle lane, the promise of white sandy beaches and turquoise bays ahead, I was at last feeling good. And then, as if all that wasn't enough, suddenly there were monkeys! Yes, monkeys! Now, I know you all love this game:
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Please do feel free to write in with your guesses as to how many monkeys you can spot in the above photo, although do bear in mind that there will be no winner this time because, honestly, I don't even know how many monkeys there are in the above photo.
As the day drew towards a close and I sped onwards along my beautiful bike lane I was surprised to suddenly see the Polish man again, now heading in the opposite direction minus his wife. We stopped to talk, which was quite fun given his English, but I established that the two of them were spending the night at a homestay and that he had been sent out to get groceries.
"Where you sleep?" he asked.
"Oh I'll go on a bit and sleep in my tent," I said.
"Why you no stay at this homestay?"
"Oh, I'm sure they only have one guestroom don't they?"
"You sleep with me and my wife."
"Steady on old boy, we've only just met."
Today's ride: 81 km (50 miles)
Total: 37,789 km (23,467 miles)
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