Chapter 2
Lift Off

Tuesday 23 May, Sawasdee Hotel, Bangkok, Thailand

Sawasdee ka from Bangkok

We arrived in Thailand on Sunday and it is all starting to feel a little bit more real, like we are actually going to drive home in a tuk tuk after all. It was quite sad saying goodbye to Mum and my brother Nick, because I knew I wouldn’t see them for over three months and I love my family so much. Dad took us to the airport and I wasn’t sad to say goodbye to him—not because I don’t love him to death, but because he will be joining us in Bangkok in a few days.

Ants and I both had insomnia on the plane and I had really bad restless legs, which in the confines of cattle class is no fun. I purloined a selection of pillows and blankets and made myself a bed by the emergency exit. I had just settled down comfortably when a stewardess politely told me that I had to return to my seat. Instead, Ants suggested a novel form of sedative and after a few shots of Night Nurse we slept like babies for the rest of the flight.

We’d arranged to meet Anuwat at the airport and after a few phone calls found him outside having a cigarette. He and his wife Dow then drove us to our hotel and I started to feel seriously excited that we were in Bangkok. The bright lights, sounds and smells of Thailand welcomed us and there were tuk tuks everywhere.

The following morning we met Stuart from Travelfish, one of our sponsors. He spent a few hours with us to do an interview and take photos for his website. Anuwat picked us all up from the hotel and we drove to his factory to meet Ting Tong for the first time. We were both feeling full of nervous anticipation. When we first saw Ting Tong it was a bit of an ‘Oh shit!’ moment, because she had no wiring, no seats and no roof and we had assumed that she would be totally finished when we arrived. However, she is bright pink and absolutely beautiful and we have both fallen madly in love with her.

My friend Hannah is out here at the moment and we met up with her, her boyfriend André and her friend Jess on the Khao San Road. For those of you who have not been to Thailand, the Khao San Road is the traveller’s ghetto in Bangkok, full of tourists, bars, restaurants, stalls and flashing neon lights. I think you either love it or hate it. It was quite fitting though, because I was with Hannah four years ago when I first came up with the idea of driving a tuk tuk back to England, and now here we are about to turn my crazy dream into reality.

We have got so much to sort out this week, and I still have no idea about tuk tuk mechanics. Anuwat is going to give me a couple of lessons in his factory later this week. God, I hope I pick it up quickly. It is really weird not being here as regular tourists, staying on the Khao San Road and going out partying every night. We’ve got too much on our plates to be doing any of that.

One of our big decisions at the moment is deciding where we want to start our adventure. Possibilities so far include the Khao San Road, the British embassy,Anuwat’s factory and Pattaya, a resort over 50 miles away. I think the Khao San Road would be a fun place to begin, but it’s really hectic and therefore may not be the best bet. We really ought to start from Bangkok, but then we would have to drive out of the city and neither of us has even driven TT yet. The traffic here is mental and the driving bordering on suicidal.

Poor Ants is feeling ill at the moment. She had a cold before we left home and now seems to have a nasty virus that is making her feverish. I hope that she feels better soon, because we are leaving in a few days…aaaagh!

Wednesday 24 May, Sawasdee Hotel, Bangkok, Thailand

The true meaning of Ting Tong

So much to write and so little time. It’s 10 p.m. and Jo and I have just got in after another hectic day in Bangkok. I want to write a megablog but I also need to lie down and chill out…so I’ll just include the highlights of today.

Today we had a very amusing lunch with Jim Short, the political secretary at the British embassy. Poor Jim was subjected to Jo’s usual barrage of questions—How old are you? How long have you been here? Where is your wife from? Do you earn much? What size are your shoes? But he still managed to be a paragon of charm and British cynicism. Thanks, Jim, for your words of wisdom and amazing tolerance to the Spanish Inquisition.

Having had lunch with Jim, we eventually got in touch with Mrs Fall, the wife of British ambassador, David Fall. Mrs Fall and her husband have very kindly agreed to let the tukathon begin at the embassy on Sunday morning and Nuttanee, their press officer, is going to rustle up some press interest. We hope some of the Thai press people will have nothing better to do than wave off a pair of Ting Tong farangs (foreigners) in a pink tuk tuk.

Which leads me to my next point: we’ve discovered that Ting Tong in fact means ‘crazy’ or ‘nuts’ in Thai. Although we were careful to ascertain that it didn’t mean some vile Mandarin obscenity, we omitted to check its Thai meaning. Oh well, it seems quite fitting really. Although, when our tuk tuk driver last night laughed, and exclaimed ‘Ting tong!’ while gesturing at a blatantly mentally unhinged individual banging a stick against a tree, we did begin to wonder whether we might be creating the wrong impression.

As for Ting Tong herself—well, she’s pink, hot pink! And she really is the most rocking tuk tuk in the world. We got a bit of a shock upon arriving at Anuwat’s factory on Monday morning to find a bevy of Anuwat’s workers swarming round her and no roof, seats or wiring. But they’ve done wonders and tomorrow she’ll be ready for us to test drive. We learnt later that Anuwat thought we were leaving next Sunday, not this one, hence the uber-chilled approach to finishing her. Anuwat is a diamond though and has been giving me and Jo the five-star treatment, chauffeuring us around sticky Bangkok and kitting out Ting Tong to perfection, down to the latest MP3 player.

Tomorrow morning it’s breakfast at the Four Seasons Hotel, then a visit to the Laos embassy to get our visas, and then mechanical training at the factory in the afternoon. We’ve managed to find a cameraman to come and help us out with the filming, so he’ll be with us for the next few days capturing the action.

Thursday 25 May, Sawasdee Hotel, Bangkok, Thailand

Busy, busy, busy…

We are having quite a week of it here in Bangkok. The time is flying by and every minute is filled with things to do.

Ants’ health took a turn for the worse today and Anuwat and I decided a visit to hospital was in order. They are not sure what is wrong yet so are keeping her in overnight to do tests. It’s not ideal, since we leave on Sunday. Fingers crossed she makes a very speedy recovery. I am fine and seem to be in good health on my very poor diet of fags, Coke and the odd grasshopper. Grasshoppers are actually quite tasty—a bit like a greasy Kettle Chip—although yesterday I got a leg stuck in the back of my throat, which induced a little retching episode. I am happy to say that I did not throw up.

Yesterday we spent the afternoon in the tuk tuk factory and I learnt all of the mechanical skills that we hope will keep Ting Tong in tiptop shape. I also had a little drive, reaching a top speed of about 10 mph in second gear. Shit! If I go on like that, it’s going to be a hell of a long journey back to Blighty. Perhaps the next challenge will be to do the trip in reverse—I am pretty nifty at reversing Ting Tong.

I went to the Laos embassy this morning on a double mission, first to obtain our visas and second to try and get special permission for us to cross into Laos at the Friendship Bridge. Currently the Laos government has banned Thai-registered vehicles driven by foreigners from crossing into Laos at this main border. This is a little bit worrying, because it is our intended route into country number two.

The traffic in Bangkok has got to be the worst in the world: think permanent rush-hour in the UK and you are still not even close. Coming back from the embassy this morning I opted to take a motorbike taxi, perhaps not the safest method of transport, but by far the quickest. I got back to the hotel in nearly half the time and was so happy that I was still alive I gave the driver a healthy tip.

Two days till Lift Off and my dad arrives from the UK today to spend a week travelling with us. It is very exciting, and having half a parental unit with us will certainly help to calm me down when we get lost or can’t find the right gear, i.e. anything above second. Having said that, we will be travelling a little slower with Dad in the back!

Anyway, I’d better go now before a power-cut wipes this blog and sends me ting tong.

Friday 26 May, Sawasdee Hotel, Bangkok, Thailand

A night in a Thai hospital

Ugh! I have just returned from a 24-hour sojourn in the Samitivej Hospital in Bangkok. Not ideal two days before Lift Off. I am feeling too feek and weeble to write much now and need to get horizontal again and get my strength back before we start.

It was nothing serious—just a high fever, the shakes and sweats, a viral infection, throat infection, ’flu and pharyngitis according to the hospital medical report. I’m sure it’s all been brought on by stress. What with all our final preparations, the launch party and arriving here, the past two weeks have been physically and mentally very challenging and my immune system caved in. We were at the factory yesterday learning mechanics and filming and I could feel myself getting hotter and hotter. By the time Jo and Anuwat took me to hospital last night I was a human radiator and my temperature had hit 104 °F. After a surfeit of pharmaceuticals, it’s now down to normal. I’m feeling very weak though and not quite sure how I am going to get enough strength to leave by Sunday. Where there is a will there is a way…

Tuesday 30 May, Khao Yai National Park, Thailand

Lift Off!

I can’t believe it! The tukathon has actually begun. At 11.49 a.m. on Sunday morning Jo, myself and Ting Tong, under the watchful gaze of Queen Victoria’s statue, turned left out of the British embassy in Bangkok and set sail for England. After so many months of planning, it’s extraordinary to think we have actually embarked on our 12,500-mile journey and that for the next three months we will slowly be heading home, each day inching a little closer across the globe.

Having only come out of hospital on Friday I was unsure whether I’d actually be able to go with Jo for the first few days. But after a shaky day on Saturday and a few green, wobbly moments on Sunday morning we were off and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

On Saturday night we took Ting Tong to the Khao San Road and got a taste of what the next few months might be like. Even in Bangkok, where tuk tuks are ubiquitous, people stopped, stared, laughed, took pictures and shook their heads in amazement when we told them we were driving our pink bomber all the way to England. Jo drove her into the Khao San and we parked her up for a few hours while we did a few interviews, people took pictures and Jo clambered on the roof-rack and risked her and Ting Tong’s life for some photos. They’d better be good. Ting Tong went down a storm and, although we might be a little bit biased, she really must be the most supersonic tuk tuk this planet has ever seen. Everyone who sees her definitely goes a little green around the gills. Thanks Anuwat—you are a total star, and Jo and I are both very, very happy that we found you and your amazing tuk tuk factory.

Sunday morning was an early start as we had to load all our kit on to TT and be at the British embassy by 10 a.m. After a rigorous security check at the gates, we cruised up to the front door of the ambassadorial residence to find a pack of photographers and TV crews waiting for us. When Nuttanee, the embassy’s press officer, had said she would be able to get some press along to the launch, we never expected such a good turnout. Maybe it was the lure of a morning at the ambassador’s residence, where they do make exceedingly good cakes.

The next two hours were a blur of interviews, photos, smiling until it felt like our faces might crack, hanging off the side of Ting Tong for more photos, giving the ambassador and his wife a lift in TT, and hurried goodbyes to cousin Bert and Hannah, Jess and André. Then in we got and off we went. We could never have dreamed our launch would be such a grand affair, and we owe a very big thank you to Mr and Mrs Fall for their amazing hospitality. Even better—Mr Fall might get a tuk tuk fromAnuwat to drive around Wiltshire in his retirement. Spread that tuk tuk love!

Since then, we’ve been speeding north in Ting Tong, eliciting smiles wherever we go. Jo was at the wheel for the first two days, cursing everyone’s slow driving and bombing past astonished drivers at 60 mph in the fast lane. Despite the floods in the north of Thailand, the terrible Indonesian earthquake and all the strife in East Timor, we made it into seven Thai newspapers on Monday morning and onto two TV stations. We’ve heard back from Blighty that we’ve also been gracing the airwaves on Radio 2, XFM and Five Live, have been on BBC South Today and are on the BBC news website. Even weirder, Ting Tong also appears in papers as diverse as the Indian Financial Times, the Deccan Herald and the Pakistani Globe today. Why on earth would someone in Karachi want to read about a bright-pink tuk tuk?

We’re in Khao Yai National Park now, where The Beach was filmed. Our hut is surrounded by jungle and I’m hoping we won’t get eaten by a hungry tiger in the middle of the night.

200 miles down. Only about another 12 000 to go…

Wednesday 31 May, Internet café, Phimai, Thailand

Newsflashes

We drove from Khai Yao National Park to Phimai today, just over 125 miles, and have dived into the nearest Internet café to check our mail and update our blog. The drive here was fairly amusing. People were pulling up level with us on the freeway, winding down their windows and waving and taking photos. When we stopped for lunch at a tiny roadside café, the owner rushed out brandishing yesterday’s newspaper with Jo and I and Ting Tong on the front page. More photos were taken, lunch was free and a crate of water was loaded on board before we waved and tukked off up the road.

The main purpose of this blog, though, is to highlight some of the press we have had in the last few days. Thanks to giving an interview in Bangkok to international news agency Associated Press, the tale of our tukathon has reached some most unexpected corners of our planet. We were thrilled to see an article on the BBC news website entitled ‘Two in a tuk tuk for 12,000 miles’. Our story in the Deccan Herald is sandwiched between articles about a dog show in Bangalore and honour killings in Pakistan. Spot the odd one out.

Last but not least, Jo and I have been giggling inanely at a blog we found that takes the piss out of our venture. For cheap laughs you really must read it: www.armedtechnician.blogspot.com.

I’ve no idea how the Armed Technician heard about our story, but on 28 May he wrote a blog entitled ‘Mental patients make break for it’. Under a picture of Jo and I in Scott Wallace’s tuk tuk, he continues: ‘Two mental patients have escaped from hospital and are being pursued by police as they flee in a rickshaw they constructed…A doctor at the hospital told reporters that the pair watched the movie Thelma and Louise at least three hundred times prior to their escape.’

The Armed Technician then followed this up today in a blog entitled ‘Mental update’. According to this we have now assumed the identities of gay nuns in order to elude the authorities and are believed to be heading to Thailand on our ‘dyke-bike’ in order to rescue ladyboys from the sex trade. Oh, and we’re also armed with ten-inch black mamba dildos with which to beat off any assailants.

Thanks Mr Armed Technician, whoever you are. You are keeping two grubby tukkers highly amused. Ting Tong’s a bit upset at being called the ‘dyke-bike’ though. I think you owe her an apology.

One final point: Jo is currently reading an email from her ferrets.

Wednesday 31 May, Internet café, Phimai, Thailand

Life on the road is hot and happy

It’s day four and I apologise that my blogs have been slightly lacking recently. We are now in Phimai and I really need a good wash. Because Ting Tong is exposed to the elements on three sides, you get full access to the environment, i.e. dust, sand and copious exhaust fumes from other vehicles. Hence us being grubby all over, particularly my feet, which gather dust as we zip down the highway at 60 mph (yes, Ting Tong is very fast).

We’ve just arrived here from Khao Yai National Park, which, although pretty chilled,had the worst food I have ever tasted. Last night our supper consisted of inedible cuttlefish crisps, raisins and beer. We also visited the waterfall where the scene from The Beach was filmed, although it looked far bigger in the film and was nothing to get excited about.

Saturday 3 June, Setta Palace Hotel, Vientiane, Laos

A five-star celebration

Yesterday, Jo, Ting Tong and I tukked over the Friendship Bridge linking Thailand and Laos and breathed a collective sigh of relief. Ever since we arrived in Thailand two weeks ago, crossing into Laos has been our biggest perceived obstacle, thanks to a recent ban on Thai-registered vehicles driven by foreigners entering at this main border. There was also the carnet de passage issue. We decided months ago against getting a carnet, since they are not legally necessary for any of the countries we are crossing and are complicated and expensive to organise. Since arriving in Bangkok, however, we’d heard that we would have a better chance of getting into Laos if we did have one. Great. So, it was with bated breath and butterflies in our stomachs that we eased down the gears and drove up to the border yesterday afternoon.

Jo has been in charge of organising all the paperwork for Thailand, Laos and China, so as she disappeared into the ominous-sounding ‘Room 6’ at Laos customs I selected Leftfield on my iPod and waited nervously. Leftfield was short-lived, however, as a bevy of tourist police, customs officials and passers-by were soon crowded round Ting Tong. ‘Where are you from?’ ‘Where are you going?’ ‘How much was your tuk tuk?’ All the usual questions were fired at me, followed by the familiar raised eyebrows and looks of ‘Are you crazy?’ upon learning of our destination. One lady spoke good English and warned me that Route 13 is very mountainous and that we should avoid driving at night due to the Hmong rebels in the north. All things we have been told before. More interesting was her revelation that there is only one psychiatrist in Laos and that depression doesn’t really exist here.

After about an hour, Jo emerged triumphantly: we had been granted special permission to enter Laos, but had to wait until Monday in Vientiane in order to get permission to drive through the other provinces. It seems that the Thai press cuttings Jo had shown Laos immigration had worked their magic and, rather than facing an unpleasant diversion, all we had to do was endure a weekend of city arrest in the Laos capital. Not exactly a hardship.

We hadn’t even thought about where we were going to stay in Vientiane, so we turned to the accommodation options in the Laos Lonely Planet for some guidance. Overjoyed at being allowed across the border, we decided to celebrate and head straight for the best joint in town, the Setta Palace Hotel, lauded in the Lonely Planet as ‘the place to stay in Vientiane’. The poolside bar and Venetian marble bathrooms sold it and off we tukked, realising as we turned off the bridge that they drive on the wrong side of the road here. Not until England will we drive on the left again.

Crossing borders is a strange experience. How in the course of a few hundred yards can everything be so different—language, faces, roads, food, smells? We had got used to the rampant westernisation that has invaded Thailand, where the roads are nearly perfect, the cars are new and shopping malls litter the roadsides. Yet the instant we crossed the mighty Mekong into Laos, the cars got more battered, the tarmac more potholed and the driving more chaotic. The driving philosophy here is definitely ‘there’s room for three’. Cars, jumbos—the Laos equivalent of tuk tuks—motorcycle taxis, bicycles and stray dogs all jostle for room, and our two mile tuk to Vientiane was not without a few squeaks from me.

So, here we are at the aforementioned Setta Palace, where the pool is divine, the breakfasts delicious and the beds worthy of staying in for extended periods of time. Jo and I were also a little grubby after a week on the road so in need of hot showers and a good scrub.

A few brief notes on Laos: I can’t believe Vientiane is a capital city, because apart from jumbo drivers and the odd farang, the streets are practically deserted. The pavements are lethal and too much Beer Lao could result in an ignominious descent down a vast uncovered drain. The cakes are plentiful, the massages are excellent and the people are lovely.

On Monday morning we head north up the (slightly) dreaded Route 13, stopping at Vang Vieng, Luang Prabang and Luang Nam Tha en route to the Chinese border at Boten.

One final thing: I forgot to mention the food market we stumbled upon at Phimai the other night. Among the gastronomic delights on offer were crispy fried frogs on skewers, toad-in-a-bag, still-gasping fish and, best of all, pigs’ willies. While I recoiled and retched violently at the sight of the last, Jo whipped out her camera and zoomed in for the close-up. Delightful.

Over to Jo…

So, here we are in our luxury hotel, with the most comfortable beds outside of England. Breakfast this morning was an interesting experience. I was just about to tuk in to my plateful of pastries when I noticed that my plate was moving ever so slightly. I was sober and not high on Coke (the liquid variety) at the time and the motion was caused by some ants—not the one sitting at the table, but the small black ones with lots of legs. I went back to examine the pastry plate more carefully and found there to be quite a few ants. I then decided to add some sugar to my cup of rather tasteless Lipton Yellow Label tea and found a little critter in the sugar bowl as well. I avoided the ant and added my sugar, before I informed the hotel staff. Is this really the sort of thing one expects from a five-star establishment? Anyway, breakfast was quite a feast and made a pleasant change to rice and American pancakes.

I will now backtrack to recap on the past few days.

We left Phimai and its historical park, containing a Khmer temple complex that predates Angkor Wat, and headed north to Khon Kaen. Ting Tong has us wrapped around her little wing-mirrors and, after arriving at our hotel, we unloaded and got her ready for bed, i.e. unrolled her rain covers and put on her silver nightie (tuk tuk cover). Dad and I shared a room and left Ants to have her own room. This is for a few reasons: I snore, I like to watch TV, I like to stay up and ferret around, I like to smoke in the bedroom and I like air-conditioning. All of these habits are a little unsociable and I do not practise them when sharing with Ants. If I want a cigarette, I will have it in the bathroom; I will go to bed at a sensible time and not watch BBC World after lights-out; and the temperature of the air-con will be decided after a bout of Thai boxing. However, I still snore.

Our night out in Khon Kaen was a little bizarre. We went out for a meal and decided on a street stall where we were all given a plate of spicy salad, which was flavoursome but ultimately unsatisfying. We then went to a restaurant complete with a live band. Musically they were good, but they chose to sing a collection of old country-and-westerns, which Dad found quite odd. We ordered some snacks to share and, because the waitresses did not speak very good English, we were presented with the wrong order. I don’t like to make a fuss and would have just eaten them, but Dad asked them to change the order. I think I am paranoid about complaining about food in restaurants after seeing a programme in England where people spit in your food if you complain. The band ended and then came a couple of Thai comedians. I didn’t understand a word but still found them funny. They called us farangs and said a joke that made everyone who spoke Thai laugh. I think the joke was probably on us. This was followed by a couple of dwarfs of varying sizes who proceeded to beat each other over the head with plastic objects. To make it stranger, the larger of the two dwarfs wore a Batman suit and had hearts painted on his face. As if things couldn’t get any odder, a very thin old man climbed on to the stage in a nightie, which he took off to reveal the shortest skirt I have ever seen, before bursting into song and being hit on the head by the two original comedians. Very weird. We decided to pay up and leave.

The following morning it was time for Dad and us to go our separate ways, he back to England and us on to Laos. I started crying and I think I upset Dad too. Ants and I both had butterflies in our stomach for the first time on the trip. Having Dad around had been comforting and had given us confidence, even though we can now drive about 5 mph faster. Now suddenly we were on our own, with 12 000 miles to go until England.

The Thai side of the border was a mere formality and they let us cross the Friendship Bridge without any problems. Although we had technically arrived in Laos, I knew that we could easily be retracing our steps back to Thailand at the discretion of the Laos authorities. I went from counter to counter before being sent up to Room 6, the place where they decide whether a vehicle can enter Laos. I provided our documents and a selection of press cuttings of us and TT from the Thai press and prayed to a non-specific God. Luckily, we were given special permission to enter, although as farangs driving a tuk tuk we should have been turned around and sent back to Thailand. After organising insurance (£3 for ten days) and having more papers signed and stamped, we were allowed to pass. I suddenly realised that we were meant to be driving on the other side of the road and hastily changed lanes. I have never driven on the wrong side of the road, but I better get used to it as we have a long way to go before being back on the right side.

So, today we were up and breakfasted before an interview via Skype with Five Live in England. I did the last one and so Ants had the honour this morning. We have decided to alternate interviews and I hope that we increase awareness about the trip and raise some more money for Mind.

In a rather large nutshell, that is it to date. Tonight we will go out to eat and spend a relaxing evening in probably the most chilled-out capital city on earth. Tomorrow I will indulge in some minor tuk tuk mechanics, i.e. tightening the bolts that affect our steering as our suspension continues to be worn in. For those technical geeks out there, this needs to happen when the steering bars start involuntarily having spasms, i.e. moving left to right without our input.

Monday 5 June, Vang Vieng, Laos

A surfeit of cake

Jo and I are sitting in an Internet café in Vang Vieng, tapping away with geckos and grasshoppers for company. I’m not feeling particularly verbose tonight so I will keep it brief.

After five hours’ driving today, punctuated by cake, beer and noodle stops, we tukked into Vang Vieng. Laos could not be more different from Thailand and, as we wound into the mountains, leaving the capital Vientiane behind us, I was struck by how incredibly bucolic this country is. Pigs, turkeys, cows and various other livestock roam the villages, and the road—Route 13—was flanked all the way by rice paddies and tree-covered mountains—very beautiful and a far cry from Thailand’s shopping malls and day-glo buses.

Vang Vieng, however, is unfortunately a violent deviation from the rural idyll I have just illustrated. If you have ever been to Haadrin in Thailand, then this is its Lao equivalent. Grotty guesthouses and TV bars cram the streets, and everywhere there are signs of yet more grotty guesthouses being built. Yet the surrounding countryside is stunning and tomorrow Jo and I are going to kick back and spend a day tubing, imbibing—Beer Lao of course—exploring caves and eating cake, of which we seem to have done quite a bit lately. My visions of us returning lithe and brown after three months on the road are slowly dissolving and, although I keep threatening to go running, I haven’t quite made it yet.

Jo will fill you in on the rest. She’s been beavering away on the next-door computer for a while, so I assume a masterpiece is in the offing.

Ting Tong’s first real adventure

We are about 100 miles north of Vientiane. Our driving speed has dropped to an average of about 30 mph due to the copious potholes and winding hilly roads. Ants and I were both knackered today and were trying to get each other to drive. I think that we both ate too many cakes over the weekend and as a result were feeling pretty sluggish.

Now back to the past few days.

On Saturday night we headed out to supposedly one of the best restaurants in Vientiane, where the mediocre food was made up for by the interesting company. As soon as we sat down we were joined by a very drunk local, who I assume had had too much Beer Lao. He repeated himself frequently, as drunk people often do, fell off his chair every couple of minutes and came out with the classic comment ‘I love you Mr Ant’. I have now taken to repeating this phrase far too often.

Our drunken friend was asked to leave by the waiters, so we finished the rest of dinner in peace, only to find him waiting outside for us on his moped. We couldn’t find a tuk tuk and so had to walk back to town, followed all the way by ‘I love you Mr Ant’. The guy could hardly walk straight and I was horrified that he was on a bike. If you want to drive me mad, then drink-drive. I think drunk people are pretty uninspiring company at the best of times, but to take charge of a car/bike when wasted is unbelievably selfish and stupid. We tried to ask him to leave and maintain a straight face, but when he kept saying ‘I love you Mr Ant’ it was hard to stop ourselves from giggling. After about one mile he finally got bored and went away. The situation did not feel remotely threatening, merely slightly irritating after the best part of an hour. In England I would have called the police or been more aggressive, but that isn’t really an option here. I find that the best thing is to not get aggressive and potentially antagonise a situation.

Sunday: awoke and had breakfast with more ants in it, which was charming. I didn’t need to eat sausages as I had enough protein from the little critters. We then went to see the beautiful Pha Tat Luang, the most important temple in Laos. I don’t wear sunglasses and therefore might have sustained slight damage to the innards of my eye thanks to the blinding golden glare from the temple. We did a bit of filming and then in the afternoon went for a herbal sauna and massage.

What better way to finish off the afternoon than with a sandwich and chocolate eclair? The sandwich was good, but the chocolate eclair contained the wrong sort of cream and, to add insult to injury, they had added custard. I ate it all the same, but was none too impressed.

This morning we split up. Ants went to sort out our permits for driving through the rest of Laos and I did some minor tuk tuk mechanics, i.e. checked the oil, water and tyres and tightened the big bolt on our steering column as our suspension keeps dropping.

At 10.30 a.m. we hit the road and I tried to drive down a one-way street the wrong way. Well done Jo! As we headed out of town, we pulled in to get the tyre pressure topped up. They were each three psi down and I wrote down the required pressures on my hand for the woman with the air gun. She nodded and squirted some air into TT’s tyres. I wondered how she knew the correct pressure as there didn’t seem to be a gauge visible. Still, I assumed that as she filled up tyres all day, then she knew what she was doing. I didn’t realise until later that she had doubled the suggested air pressure. I will never let a random person violate poor TT again. We are lucky her tyres didn’t burst from the excessive air. Tomorrow we will get our digital tyre inflator thing from the roof and do our own air in the future. The vehicles in Laos must all have the most pumped-up tyres in South East Asia, and this is a risky thing if riding a motorbike or a three-wheeler.

Next stop was lunch, which was cold and had unidentifiable objects floating in it; however, it tasted pretty good. As we neared Vang Vieng we passed what looked like a café and pulled in for a cooling drink, assuming that the guy who welcomed us was the owner of the shack. In fact, he was just a local who was—guess what?—wasted on Beer Lao and proceeded to fill our glasses, slobber all over my cheek and grab my boobs. Of course, Ants caught it all on camera.

Enough waffle from me now. Good night, and good afternoon to those in the West.

Tuesday 6 June, Vang Vieng, Laos

Tubing and Berr Lao

It’s our second night in tourist-tastic yet beautiful Vang Vieng, where there are definitely the most white people I have seen in one place since England.

Today we both woke up feeling exhausted, even though we had had plenty of sleep, and opted for a leisurely day’s sightseeing. After a huge pineapple pancake and cup of tea (or yoghurt and rabbit food for Ants), we pottered into town and found a tour operator and, within a few minutes, had sorted out our day’s entertainment.

Our first adventure was kayaking. I was put in the back and given the task of steering. I lost all knowledge of left, right, forwards and backwards and before long was sitting on a rock in the middle of the river and Ants had jumped ship. I was then told to paddle rather than steer, so I swapped to the front of the kayak. I am not particularly fit at the moment, but I managed to propel us down the river at a sort of doggy-paddle speed. Ants was much better at steering and there were no more rock incidents. My arms started to get pretty tired and I was glad when we stopped for our next adventure, which consisted of putting our butts in two large tractor-tyre inner tubes and pushing off down river. This was a far more relaxed way to see the mountains. Luckily we had a wonderful guide with us called Pon, who told us which way to go to avoid the rocks. We stopped for lunch at a riverside shack and had beer and spring rolls. There were lots of other tourists there, and we had a nice chat. We explained about our trip, which some other Brits had read about on www.gapyear.com. It’s strange how many people we meet have already heard about our trip one way or another.

After lunch we carried on tubing and stopped at a place called the ‘sleeping cave’, where about 200 people hid from the invading Japanese during the Second World War. We didn’t have torches and so swum in only a few yards. It was pretty amazing, but I get a little scared in deep water and Ants and I asked Pon repeatedly if there were any snakes, spiders or alligators. He assured us there were none.

Just as we were tubing into Vang Vieng, the skies opened and we got drenched. I found the experience very beautiful and refreshing—high tree-covered mountains surrounding a river valley with no sign of modern life. It was one of those very peaceful and special moments.

Tomorrow we are off to Luang Prabang and we anticipate a good seven hours on the road, providing we get TT up the muddy, stony, steep slope from our guesthouse.

Goodnight.

Wednesday 7 June, Sayo River Guest House, Luang Prabang, Laos

We made it!

Another hurdle was crossed today by the three-wheeled trio, for Jo, TT and I are now in Luang Prabang, in three whole pieces.

Today was a perfect example of how the fear of something is so often much worse than the actual reality. After all the rumours of rebels and treacherous roads, Jo and I set off this morning feeling very unsure of whether we would make it here. The road from Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang is, as we have mentioned before, notorious for a number of reasons, namely hairpin bends, armed bandits and landslides. Since the public bus takes eight hours to climb the 140 miles to Luang Prabang, we banked on taking about the same time. TT may be supersonic, but we weren’t quite sure how she’d handle them there mountains. Spiffingly is the answer.

For three hours we climbed and climbed, until stopping in a random town for Coke and foe (noodle soup with many unidentifiable things lurking in its depths). We had read that the road after this was particularly dangerous and a favourite haunt of Hmong rebels, so when I tuk to the wheel I put my foot down and headed further into the mountains as fast as was safely possible.

As we drove I was struck by the fact that this is Laos’s main road, the superhighway linking Laos, Thailand and China. Yet all along its route are tiny hill-tribe villages populated with scruffy children, piglets, goats, chickens, wandering water buffalo, cows and bent old women. As we tukked through each settlement, gangs of children screeched in delight at the sight of the peculiar pink vision whizzing past, and livestock scattered from the road. I am now convinced that the average age in Laos is about five years old, as the number of tiny children far outnumbered adults. Where have all the oldies gone? Maybe they were all watching TV, since many of the rickety bamboo huts sported vast, incongruous satellite dishes.

So, at 5.30 p.m. we made it to Luang Prabang. Phew! No rebels, no mudslides and no toppling off the edge of the mountain. We did see several people wandering along with rifles slung over their backs, though, and some bored policeman decided to pull us over simply to see who we were.

Tomorrow we’ve got a day off—yes, another one—and then we head for China on Friday. Strange to think we are so nearly through our second country. Poor Jo is missing her ferrets terribly and shed a few ferrety tears last night.

Relieved, tired and missing my furry friends

I am so relieved we made it to Luang Prabang. As Mr Ant has said, having heard so many stories about Route 13 we had no idea what to expect, but it didn’t live up to its frightening reputation. The road was mountainous and bendy but also a lot wider than I thought. The precipitous drops I had imagined were few and far between, we were not jumped by Hmong rebels and the potholes were navigable.

TT performed like a true superstar, although towards the end of the journey her backside started to make a noise (that’s TT’s, not Ants’). We thought it might be the rear suspension, but after pulling over and getting down on the ground we have concluded that she probably has a small hole in her exhaust, which we will get checked tomorrow. It possibly happened when I sent her shooting up the drive from our guesthouse this morning.

Oh yes, I miss my ferrets and last night had a really good cry into my comfort blanket (sad that I still have one at 27). I am sure that this will not be the first time that I cry because I miss them, but I hope that I don’t get upset too regularly.

Thursday 8 June, Luang Prabang, Laos

Ting Tong’s backside

This morning has been spent flat on my back in the middle of the road, fag in mouth and can of Coke within reach, inspecting TT’s undercarriage for any obvious signs of an exhaust hole. I found nothing out of the ordinary, and the exhaust and its various nuts and bolts all seemed OK. The exhaust manifold (I think that’s what it is) looks a bit rusty and so that may be the cause of the random noise on Route 13. Perhaps we had just picked up a stone or something on the drive and it has now gone. Anyway, we will be keeping our ears peeled. I did the usual tightening of the bolts under the handlebars as we break in TT’s suspension further. If it keeps going on like this, then we will be driving into Brighton on our nose. I am a pretty useless mechanic, but I look like I know what I am doing when armed with a two-foot-long wrench, covered in dirt and oil and lying flat on my back under TT.

Anyway, enough about TT and more about us. She is getting all of the attention on this trip and is in danger of becoming a bit spoilt and pampered. We will come back to England driving the Paris Hilton of tuk tuks and will have acquired a ridiculously small dog that looks a bit like a rat and wears a diamanté collar. Soon she will be deciding what we listen to on our sound system and start flirting with other tuk tuks. This type of behaviour is totally unacceptable.

So, today was our first and last full day in Luang Prabang, which is a shame as it is such a great place. The town itself is a World Heritage Site and is crammed full of temples, as well as being situated on the banks of the mighty Mekong. Although it is well developed for travellers, it is not brash and unattractive like Vang Vieng. It has an air of France about it, with baguettes, coffee, and quaint houses with colourful shuttered windows. There is a real atmosphere about this place, something that is difficult to put your finger on but that draws you to stay for a while. We don’t have the option to stay and explore, and so today we jumped in a boat and travelled up the Mekong to visit Pak Ou caves. As far as caves go they weren’t mind-blowing, but what was interesting about them is that they were full of stone, metal and wooden Buddhas. The signs in the cave said that it is against the law in Laos to take images of Buddha out of the country, so that was a random fact for the day.

The boat journey took two hours upstream and half the time downstream. There is something very relaxing about journeying down the rivers here, surrounded by mountains, trees and the odd small settlement. It certainly beats a cruise down the Thames.

Now I am going to phone our tuk tuk guru Anuwat to try and do some more troubleshooting. We don’t have a day off now for over two weeks until we reach Xian in China, and we can’t afford for TT to be misbehaving.

A quick final point: for some reason, Ants and I have been feeling a bit mentally flat. It is strange doing this trip, because we know that it is probably going to be the most amazing thing we do in our lives, but right now we are not appreciating the experience as much as we should. Emotions are a funny thing, and this trip is quite an emotional rollercoaster. I hope we feel better soon.

Goodnight from Laos.