I want to ride my bicycle!

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the room at the hostel is clearly more comfortable that the five star hotel – either that or the night before’s lack of sleep has finally caught up with me. Either way, I slept like a baby until 10am, making the pair of us suitably late for today’s planned bicycle adventure.
Yesterday afternoon, we stumbled across bike racks full of brand new, sturdy mountain bikes, similar to the fleet deployed to London by King Boris a couple of years back. No evidence of a fee to pay, no evidence of anyone remotely interested in using them. It’s called the Bangkok Smiles tour – although the distinct lack of bicycles anywhere in this city tends to imply that you’re more likely to be grimacing rather than pedalling gently, grinning from ear to ear, as you cross 5 lanes of tuk-tuks, taxis, tour buses and trucks. Undeterred, we decided it sounded like a great idea to investigate further, so off we set to find out what the craic was with these bikes.
A quick stop at a hawker stall for breakfast (soup) on the way, at a place where 12 hours previously we were wading knee deep in floodwater, and we were there. The river is bursting its banks with every raindrop and there was floodwater still to see near our bike stand, however fortunately for us (and as you will soon find out, the local residents), the bikes were unaffected. A quick sanity check by the man in charge of Bangkok Smiles ruled us suitably mad for hiring said vehicles, so he took photos, clearly for his private collection of lunatic snap-shots, or for identification purposes at the hospital later, of us happily posing with our bikes. It was about now that the pure terror kicked in.
For, as some of you will no doubt be aware, I don’t do bikes. We’re not friends – not since one particularly vicious variety chose to catapult me over its handlebars some 15 years ago. I know what you’re thinking – some kind of dramatic road accident, or crazy off-road event, and Adele ends up in A&E. No, not me – just 10 yards from my front door and my mudguard snaps, jams into the front fork, and sends me 10 feet up in the air before unceremoniously landing, arm and face first, into the Westfield Road pavement. The resulting diagnosis of 4 fractures (pretty good going given I was only travelling at a max 5 mph) meant that that was the last time I attempted to cycle to my grandparents’ house, ¼ mile away, in fact, given the humiliation of the subsequent one-armed crawl back across the Berrow Road to home, it was the last time I cycled anywhere. So what better place to ‘get back in the saddle’, so to speak, than Bangkok city centre…
I chose not to share any of the above with Emma – I just let her lead the way along the cycle route, just in case I put in a repeat performance of the dramatic tumble mentioned above. Wobbling about more than jelly on a rollercoaster, I set off behind, taking in as many of the sights as I could without careering into a two ton truck. The best part came when we lost the cycle path, just short of the Democracy Monument which is situated in the middle of a 4 lane enormous roundabout. The map indicated we needed to go right, almost the full circle of the roundabout. Emma set off with gusto and sped across all lanes of traffic confidently, navigating the full roundabout, whilst, in the style of Jim Dale in Carry on Doctor, all I can do is scream ‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!’ as I bumble across the carriageways, cutting up taxis and tuk tuks alike, before having to grind to a halt at the roundabout itself, courtesy of a red light at the pedestrian crossing, complete with Thai lady laughing hysterically at my panic. The lights changed, the scream returned, and I pelted it from right hand lane back to left to meet Emma on the other side, but not without another stop at a red light part way round, and some mickey taking of me, my bright red sweaty and stress riddled face and my cycling proficiency, by the local bus driver. I needed a drink – not of the water variety either given the events of the last 5 minutes. However, Chang make both beer and water here so I convinced myself that a bottle of the latter was the former, and set off again.
The next leg of the journey was largely uneventful, however we stopped at Wat Ratchanaddaram, which is a beautiful peaceful temple and market, for a quick spot of photography. Continuing on our adventure, we ended up back at the ‘car boot sale’ and Wat Pho from yesterday, and suddenly cycling on the route became impossible. Well, to be fair, it had been pretty impossible the whole way round as tuk-tuks and cars alike park over the cycle lanes for the mostpart. However now we were being asked to cycle on the paths which were in the middle of the pavement and upon which car boot stall holders had set up their pitches. We opted against the ‘keep to the path, thus wiping out the entire market’ option and headed to the road, weaving in and out of coaches and taxis, until we reached a cycle station similar to the one we hired the bikes at. Deciding to leave the bikes there for an hour, we headed to the nearby Sunday markets for a nose.
At the market, it was clear to see that the floods were still badly affecting the city. The markets back onto the river and the water was flowing knee deep around certain stands. We headed over to the river itself and in a spur-of-the-moment event, decided to take a long-boat to the floating markets in the city. A quick spot of negotiation on the price and we were off – heading down the river and onto the canals. As we waited at the lock gate, I took a look over the edge of the boat to see the filth that was floating past – medicine bottles, nappies, bin bags to name but a few items, all caught up in the coconut palms on the surface. This could easily have put anyone off – however once we got past the lock, the riverways widened and the most beautiful scenery appeared. Shacks nestled alongside sprawling estates, men fishing at the side of the river, a lady sailing up and down the waterway selling novelty gifts and beers – this trip had it all. Kids waved and cheered from the riverbanks, some chose to swim in the waters or jump from the low bridges with their friends. Some homes were water-locked, whereby the only method of access was by boat. The postman certainly has an interesting job around these parts.
We ended up at the floating markets, where shoals of fish leapt to the hands of the locals feeding them, where you can buy a whole coconut for the equivalent of 20p, served on ice with a straw to quench your thirst. Ladies in boats grilled fish to order to the waiting public sitting on the jetty above. Beautiful food was being prepared all around, to the gorgeous backdrop of the river, which you’d think would be complemented by the sound of bartering and marketing by stall holders. Not this floating market – at this one, you could do your shopping at the same time as taking on a spot of karaoke on an enormous stage in the middle of the market…
We set back off on our longboat to collect the bikes (which admittedly we had intended to abandon for only an hour, but which had now been owner-less for 3) and set off back to the original hire station. As we pulled round the final corner, a group of passengers had just got off a nearby boat and had congregated by our bike station. We decided to cycle right for them and upon ringing the bells on our bikes, were greeted to an impromptu round of applause and cheering, ordinarily reserved for Tour de France stage winners. The bike station owner was the same, though judging by the colour of my face, I think it was more a case of surprise that I’d made it back at all.
And so back to the hostel, and farewell to Emma, as she moved on to the next stop of her journey this evening. A few more days here on my tod, before I head off somewhere new myself (still tbd). It’s been great to spend the last few days with someone who knows Thailand, but hopefully we’ll meet up again in NZ next year. For now – and fear ye all – I’m fending for myself again, so there’s still every chance I’ll end up in some kind of Bridget Jones/Bangkok disaster. I’m expecting you all to keep fingers toes and eyes crossed that after years of searching for it, common sense is finally granted to me before I wake up in the morning!

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