8th February
Distance 67km
I’ve never boiled eggs in hot springs before, then neither have I ever been woken up by the intermittent sound of geezers going off. This place is wicked.
Packed up and back on the bikes we head north for our final day of cycling.
As we are weaving upwards towards the border of Myanmar we stop off at a local village fete. Thanks to Yai we leave there about 45 minutes later having been warmly welcomed by the village, given merit to the new temple (along with our own good wishes for friends granted) and become laden with calamari, prawns and coconut bread.
Stuffed with said coconut bread and calamari we head off for our final ride of the day. The last 20km or so are only slightly upwards – however, I’ve been warned. The final 3 are a killer, with a gradient of up to 20 percent. By the time we get to the final check point Tom states that only mad dogs and englishmen would ride up that hill in the midday heat. Being English and partial to a challenge I trundle off in granny gear while the others shout encouragement as they pass me in the van.
Did I make it? The short answer is no. 2km up and I suspect I may be about to die. I have a nice week on the beach to look forward too, hence, with reluctance and very very wobbly legs I push my bike up for the last remaining kilometre.
My disappointment in not quite making it up the hill is short lived. Our mission upwards was to visit the Karen Hill tribes people (famous for their long necks). Any profits made from what they sell are kept directly by the tribes people, used for education amongst other essentials. There is nothing quite like a bit of therapeutic shopping for easing the joints and the ego. In fact, I believe it may actually be better for you than a Thai massage.
