Until next time...

Photos from the exhibition in Phnom Penh.

 

Two months to the day since I rolled those last kilometers into Phnom Penh, I have had quite some time to digest the incredible experiences of my epic cycling adventure. It's hard to put such a journey into words as each and every day was so different from the previous one, the terrain, the weather, the people, often the food. It's hard to summarise such a journey, in fact, I don't think I need to! I think what will stay with me the longest is just how incredibly similar we humans are, everywhere, what we don't know about each other we are scared of, this is the cause of so much misunderstanding. Traveling gives us the perfect opportunity to know what we don't have to be scared of. I'm often asked how it felt to arrive, to reachmy goal. As I cycled those narrow and busy roads through the buffalo lined, rice paddies and on to my destination I guess I felt mostly sadness that the adventure was over, no massive sense of achievement, just the end of the road....till next time at least.
I hope that you have been able to share at least a portion of the joy that this trip has brought me, certainly the comments I have received from so many have helped keep me going. I have loved hearing from you all! Let the next next adventures begin....

 

Thanks to your generous donations, around NZ$10,000 was raised. It's not too late to DONATE to The Cambodia Trust

Waving "byebye"


I struggle to concentrate on the road as small voices call from every direction, "bye bye", "sabaidee" or as I reach into Cambodia "hello, bye bye". I try to wave to each one like the queen on parade (or King maybe). Sometimes I have to strain my eyes to find the little voice coming from a tree, behind a bush or on top of a buffalo. They are anywhere and everywhere. Sometimes only a small hand can be seen above the window sill as the little munchkin peeks through the cracks in the wall boards. Where this enthusiasm comes from, I don't know. The parents of the smallest children hold their hands to make them wave as I whizz past. It sure makes a passing cyclist feel welcome, though for me I have found it hard to get beyond this and really interact with the people, I feel too different or perhaps to alien to them. Some kids run in fright at the sight of such a hairy man on a bicycle, only to wave from a safe distance. Those adults who do speak English are not easy to engage and those that don't quickly give up with the sign language or other means of communication. For me, SE Asia has been an incredibly easy place to be, almost to easy with nicely spaced guest houses and endlessly available food and drinks. I'm happy to have had company for most of my time here as it makes life as an observer more enjoyable. I think years of tourism have meant that all foreigners are seen just as rich people who can afford to pay for whatever. To some extent this is true, though with an interest in the people and places far beyond this, I will leave a little sad that I wasn't able to find a door leading very far into their lives. This certainly is partly my fault as I have not made a huge effort to try to stay with them as I have done elsewhere in the past. But my confidence to do so usually steams from a feeling of mutual interest which I have not felt here. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that travel is not a major part of life and culture, so understanding what I am doing and why I am doing it is very difficult for them to understand.
With just a couple of days to go before I reach Phnom Penh, I start to feel the pinch of the end of an amazing adventure, my thoughts start to gather as I try to put my feelings into words.

 

Support a great cause: DONATE NOW to The Cambodia Trust

A Lucky Brake

 

My hands desperately reach for the brakes, I pull hard but it's too late, I swerve right but my left handlebar makes contact followed soon after by me as I hit the back of the vehicle hard. I quickly come to a complete stop, my main concern is my bike at this point. One of the j-bars hangs by the handlebar tape, the mirror is gone. In a bit of shock I speak to the driver before getting off the road. I find the broken mirror on the ground some meters away.
The tail light on the truck is smashed, I point it out to the driver and try to figure out how much I should pay him. 500 baht? Not enough? Hmmm, ok, $20? No, he indicates 3000 baht. Finally we settle on $40 and 500 baht. Only then does the driver point out blood on my arm and leg. It's nothing major, I realise how lucky I am, could have been worse.
Racing across Thailand at about 25km/h, I look down for a second as a pick-up truck pulls in and stops in front of me, a perfect recipe for disaster.
With less than 2 weeks of cycling left to reach Phnom Penh, I start to feel that I'm reaching the end of this epic journey and the realities of normal life creeping back into my consciousness. But there are still 1000 km of road ahead which I will enjoy every minute of!

Thank you to those that have already donated to the Cambodia Trust, those who would still like to, please click on the link below.

 

Support a great cause: DONATE NOW to The Cambodia Trust