Watch It Komodo Dragon,You're Blocking My Tiny Bike Lane: Day 1 - Biking South From Bangkok

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Day One: Bangkok to Samut Sakhon

Getting out of Bangkok was a real bitch. We’d bought a map the previous day and written down very simple directions, just four streets should have gotten us out of there, but those streets kept ending, or coming to an unexpected T, or looping around. We stopped to ask directions, and that first stop was symbolic of the kind of help that we’d find throughout our trip.

We pulled over on the side of the street and started asking people the way to Samut Sakhon, the next big town on the main route south out of town. A man walking by stopped and began trying to explain and a motorbike mechanic working nearby came over to assist. The mechanic went in to his shop and came back out with a big book of maps of Thailand. After he’d shown us the route we needed to take, in decent English, he insisted we keep the book. We were floored by his kindness; an act that to him was no big deal seemed like an impossibility if we’d been biking through New England, back home. We wanted some way to thank the mechanic and J thought of the beautiful hemp bracelets he weaves. I fastened one on the surprised mechanic’s wrist; I think he was touched. Actually, he might have just thrown it away as soon as we left. Anyway, throughout our journey strangers went out of their way to be kind, and we gifted them with the only thing we had to give, beautiful hemp bracelets and necklaces.

It was also while pulled over, before setting off again, that we realized that Thai people are really impressed by two falang, (foreigners) biking through their country. Dozens of people stopped to stare at us, most smiling, some waving, before we’d even left Bangkok. And Bangkok is a city that is used to foreigners, a mixed place where the locals are not impressed or interested by outsiders. But as we found out, all you have to do is get on a bike and they love you!

Disclaimer: The next paragraph should not be read by the faint of heart, as it is a bit frightening. Skip ahead a paragraph and save yourself a slight heart attack.

With the mechanic’s directions, we found the highway we would need to take to get out of the city. After about two hours of biking around the city, trying to get out, we were thrilled when we finally found this escape route. But as soon as we actually rode on to it, we were terrified. The worst part was probably when J’s tire popped after twenty minutes of riding and he had to change it, cars whipping by at 75 mph, inches from his head. Four lanes of fast traffic rushed by our tiny bikes, the wind from each vehicle whooshing in to us. This highway, Rt. 35, was similar in modernity to a fairly busy highway in the US. We thought it safest to ride in the tiny lane by the fast lane, as cars were constantly entering the highway, passing dangerously through the breakdown lane. The views from the highway were similar to a highway in the US too, just big department stores, parking lots, nothing exotic or fascinating like we’d dreamed. A highlight was passing a four-foot long komodo dragon, lying freshly hit on our tiny shoulder. While intriguing, the dead creature completely blocked our tiny lane, forcing us in to the fast lane for a second while we rode around.

We managed to traverse the four lanes of traffic to exit the highway for lunch at a Tesco-Lotus, a department store similar to a Target. While I flopped to the ground outside the store, exhausted, to watch the bikes, J went inside to find some lunch. He emerged with fried chicken, French fries and soda from KFC. While I did not think Lance Armstrong would approve, the fried food was a much deserved treat after a rough morning. We really did not want to get back on that highway to continue, it seemed like a serious risk of our lives. After eating, I went in to the store and started asking everyone how to get to Samut Sakhon; everybody answered the same, “Just take the highway, that’s the only way”.

Resigned to carefully ride in the breakdown lane for the afternoon, we set off again after lunch, taking the on-ramp to the highway. Imagine our great surprise when after only a few miles, our guardian angel created a road that ran directly alongside the highway!! This road, while busy, was not a highway, had only two lanes and had a bigger breakdown lane. We were so relieved. We rode along that road for a few hours, enjoying the heavy but slow traffic alongside us, the scenery similar to any crowded industrial, commercial area in the world, wondering why we chose to bike Thailand. Although, many Thai people waved and smiled, or honked and waved while driving by, reminding us why we were in Thailand. At one point, my left pannier fell off, but fortunately, not in to the road.

Soon afterwards, we accidentally took an under-ramp to U-turn, turning us the wrong way. We’d gone 22 miles and were exhausted. (To you bikers out there, I know twenty-two miles doesn’t seem like much, but remember, we were not in shape. And we were not bikers.) We decided to turn off on to a side road to look for accommodation. Suddenly, our ride was just as we’d imagined. Biking side-by-side down a quiet, peaceful road, lined with cute little homes, a canal, kids and puppies playing everywhere. We turned in to a driveway leading to what we thought might be a guesthouse or hotel, though there was no English sign. After drinking some delicious orange fanta on the rocks, which would be the drink of choice for us serious bikers from then on, we started asking about a room...

It’s a really good thing 50% of the Thai language is the same as the Lao language, which I speak about 25%, as most Thai people outside Bangkok do not speak English. I estimate that gives me about a 12.5% ability to communicate in Thai, which may not seem like much to you, but to us, it was more than enough! I could communicate for all the important things, make jokes, be friendly, I just couldn’t have conversations about world history or international affairs. (I guess maybe a few other things too.)

At this possible-hotel, I discovered the rate was 1450 baht per month, $50 US, or 250 baht per night, $8 US, a price made up by the owner on the spot. I don’t think anyone had ever requested a single night before, and we soon found out why. Happy with the quoted per night price, despite the fact it was a very significant mark-up to the price per month, the owner led us to see the room. The room was a 10x10 empty room, with tiled floor, a squat non-flushing toilet and shower in a separate bathroom. The owner’s selling point was the attached garage-like room on the back, where we could put our bikes. Communicating why we couldn’t take the room was difficult. I actually suggested to J that we just take it, I was that tired. But J, smart guy he is, declined, seeing as the room didn’t fit our basic needs for a bed and a hot shower.

We should have known the room would be empty if it was generally rented per month. Sensing our hesitation, the owner conveyed that he knew what was missing, and ran to get it. He came back with a small fan. Apologetic for wasting their time, I tried to convey that a fan just wouldn’t cut it, using my 12.5% Thai, and we biked on, both admitting to being delirious. Day 1 of biking through Thailand with zero training and zero research was turning out to be hard!! The apartment owner had been kind enough to point us towards a real hotel though and five minutes of biking brought us to the lovely London L’Amour Inn. The name was oddly the only aspect of this place in English, as nobody here spoke English and none of the signs or menus were in English. Not that I would expect them to be, this being Thailand, but the name was such a tease!

The London L’Amour Inn was out of this world! Built only twenty-four miles out of Bangkok, I’m quite sure this is where all the rich politicians and celebrities take their mistresses, girlfriends, boyfriends and lovers. The driveway snakes between two straight rows of bunkers, giant ground-length curtains spaced at even intervals down the row. We peeked behind the curtains and saw that this was where guests parked their cars. We were wondering where the rooms were. We soon discovered that the rooms are entered through the rear of the garage, making it possible for guests to retain absolute privacy. Guests could drive in to the establishment, perhaps in a car with tinted windows, park inside the garage, after which the attendants would pull the curtains closed, and enter their room without a soul seeing them. They could either pay by credit card ahead of time, or pay through a small slot, set aside the door for secret, unseen deliveries. The rooms themselves have no windows but are positively splendid, no detail overlooked, each a plethora of wild designs mixed together as one. After seeing a few rooms, all magnificent and completely different, we negotiated for the room with the big hot-tub. I negotiated, fairly unsuccessfully, with two girls my age. Although the hotel was not full, they acted as if it was my blessing to get to stay there, and I could only get them to discount about 100 baht, down to 650 baht, about $20. I guess we were a bit less royal than most of their guests, as we realized while parking our tiny bicycles behind the big curtain. $20 was a bit expensive for a hotel in Thailand, but seeing as we were fully drained and the hotel was one-of-a-kind, we took it with delight.

Our room was funky, with a design incorporating four different wallpapers on each wall, three levels of wainscotting, shadowboxes set in to the ceiling, a pink vinyl mat gracing the wall behind the bed, red vinyl chairs, huge TV that swung around to face either the hot tub or the bed…and on and on, fascinating, really. Very comfortable, which was key, as we were both incredibly sore and fatigued, my legs ached and J‘s under-regions throbbed. Stupidly, we were both also sun-burnt, underestimating the strength of the afternoon Thai sun.

There was a room-service menu, but it was entirely in Thai, and the prices for the mystery items were expensive. So after showering, we left our room to go find dinner, an ordinary enough choice, but one that was deemed shocking and confusing to the multiple attendants posted in front of the bunkers. “Where were we going? Why? Who leaves the bunkers!?” Their eyes questioned us. Apparently, most guests do not leave their rooms during their stay. (Chuckle.) Walking a short distance down the main street, we came across a little food shack set back from the road. Here, we ate plates of delicious pad sew noodles, while Danny, a rowdy and drunk Thai guy, entertained us. He fed us Dove chocolate bars, told us crazy stories and asked us questions about the US. He spoke good English and before departing loudly on his motorbike, gave us his digits and told us to call anytime we needed protection.

Reconsidering this bike trip, wondering how we would ever possibly get on our bicycles the next day, we drifted off to sleep in our incredibly plush bed at the London L’Amour Inn.

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