Change of plans and welcome to the hills

When we set off for our little walkabout in Thailand we had three possible plans in mind. 1) Walking northeast to Vientiane and straight into Laos, 2) taking a north-northwestern direction to Chiang Mai before cutting northeast to the Chiang Khong border crossing and 3) strictly north to Chiang Rai, entering Laos via Chiang Khong. Of course we chose the non-existent fourth option: heading towards Nan and entering Laos via Ban Huay Kong.

Our route options very schematically drawn to give you an idea

There were two reasons for this: route 1) seemed too short and we really wanted to see Thailands north. And the hordes of so called individual tourists with backpacks, all flocking to the same locations in the end, scared us off number 2) and 3). Don't get me wrong, I have met great backpackers who I love to bits and I do not think lower of their way of travelling as opposed to ours. BUT: too many tourists influence the local community in predominantly negative ways. Traditional values are lost and replaced by 'great' western achievements such as egoism, greed and materialism. Yes, the locals still seem friendly to most tourists because a) that is the Thai nature and b) we are used to being surrounded by unjustified grumpyness back home. We experienced the difference numerous times. Clear waters suddenly seem cloudy once you have sailed unspoilt ones.

Countryside impressions

A great example are Mamiaw and Mak. They saw us walking on the side of the road, stopped and asked if they could help. We were looking for a place to sleep and they knew two. Twenty minutes later they drove back to inform us that both had been shut down - and invited us to stay at their house by the river instead, almost apologizing that it is very small. We could not believe our luck and once again were absolutely gobsmacked by the kindness we are experiencing. Despite not having many material possessions (compared to most Europeans) they invited us to eat lunch at the restaurant, they showed us how buddhists pray in their local temple and they introduced us to their family. Mamiaw and her mother even prepared a vegan dinner with four choices - especially for us. It was some of the best food we have tasted to date. They just let us use everything in their home freely without being present and trusted us completely. Honestly: how many people do you know who would let two stinky, sweaty tramps in their house after knowing them for barely five minutes? I know precisely one...

Left: Nan river just in front of Mamiaw and Maks house right: our truly generous and great hosts

These are the moments that make you feel shabby as a Westerner. We have so much and give so little. They own so little but are prepared to share everything. And you wonder who the really poor people are, us or them. This experience has touched us deeply and will stay with us for ever. We hope to be able to return something one day... Thank you Mak, Mamiaw and family!

Anyhow, we were resting in one of our beloved roadside houses (which are actually bus stops) on the first day on our new route when an old, toothless man walked straight towards us. In his hand a machete, pointed at me. On his face a grin and on his chin three 8 cm long beard hairs. Because walking people generally have some rusty screws in the upper compartment (explained in my last blog) I did not know what to think of this for a moment - but decided to wait calmly and see what he wants. He greeted by swinging the knife above his head and sat down next to us. I returned a friendly 'Sawatdee' and realized quickly that he meant no harm. After a while the whole neighbourhood joined him to see these two white strangers on foot.

My friend the machete man and Elly testing the local fitness centre

We absolutely have no regrets having discarded our original plans. The rather monotonous rice fields in central Thailand are no longer. Native rainforest, growing atop sheer cliffs and hosting abundant wildlife took their place. The hills have also gifted us TWO days of rain! The first time since we took off on the 5th of May. We were absolutely ecstatic, dancing and singing on the road, acting so silly that we almost got run over. But the new terrain also means that walking has become more arduous. A total of about 1000 metres of altitude added some juice to the past daily 28 - 30 km.

Outlook from a pass and overhanging cliffs (we didn't attempt to climb them). Bottom: dry river beds everywhere confirm that last month has been far too hot and dry

So where are we now? We have arrived in Nan and walked a total of 630 km. To give you an idea this is roughly the distance from Zürich to Paris, Glasgow to London or San Francisco to LA. Are we tired of walking yet? By no means, we are just starting to enjoy ourselves. 150 km of mostly jungle are between us and the border to Laos where a new culture, new people and new experiences await us. The landscape will become more challenging and we will have to tread very carefully. After all this is the most heavily bombed country in the world (per capita) and more explosives have been dropped over it than by all sides during the second world war. Millions of unexploded bombs are still lingering all over. But helping to clear this mess is what drives us. 

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We are walking 5000 km through southeast Asia to raise money for MAG (Mines Advisory Group) to help clear mines in Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam. If you like this project please share the blog with your friends and colleagues and make a donation via JustGiving. Your help is greatly appreciated! 

Klick here to read this blog in German

Only crazy and homeless people...

...walk in Thailand. This is what a petrol station owner, who lived in Melbourne for four years, told us. And I guess he is right. The few Thais who we saw walking and collecting rubbish to get a few Baht from recycling did look rather scruffy and like they had nowhere to go. What about us? Well, we have no permanent place to stay at the moment and you have to be slightly mentally off to walk in a country where you can travel hundreds of kilometers by train for a handful of dollars - climatized and the whole lot. So we fit right in...

Homeless and crazy people...

Anyhow, since we did not find a place to sleep we stopped at the aforementioned fuel station and asked the manager if we could pitch our tent here. He even offered us the 'bungalow' which was put up for the construction workers and no longer in use. We gladly accepted, set up camp (without rain fly) and cooked dinner. Sadly we acquired a high quality product which means that the inner tent alone insulates rather well. There was absoutely no way that we could sleep in that thing with temperatures not dropping below 30 at night. After a few minutes of laying in there we were bathing in our own sweat. The tent had to go. Luckily we are carrying a mosquito net with us which at least did not store any heat and protected us from blood sucking creatures. The night was nonetheless awful - trying to minimize the body - sleeping mat contact surface used up about 70 % of the time. Another 5 % was spent worrying about being buried alive. The rare but gusty wind rattled our shelter precariously and provoked it to sing the strangest of melodies. Rarely have we ever been so glad to get up in the morning after about two hours of sleep...

Our bungalow and a typical picture of the region

Determined to not spend such a night again we walked 33 km straight until we found something - taking a shower and having a fan felt like heaven on earth and there was nothing that could have made us happier. The scarcity of places to sleep is the downside of walking through a farm land dominated part of the country. 

The tent was already threatening again when we stopped at a run down row of shacks going by the dodgy name of 'Sanit Love Inn'. Was this a countryside brothel? With no more appealing options left we chose to stay anyhow. Entering the barrack confirmed our initial thought. A huge picture was hanging on the wall with a busty blonde laying atop a muscular man. Both naked. Besides the towels we received two toothbrushes and condoms. Foot and handprints in most improbable locations on the walls told the stories of acrobatic sexual acts that this room had witnessed in the past. If there was any residual doubt in our minds about the nature of this place it was dispelt as soon as twilight struck. High pitched moaning, screaming and squealing from left and right - in their totality reminiscent of a howling pack of wolves, only interrupted by the occasional low pitched grunting of a wild boar - was our good night soundtrack. After we finally fell asleep a punter vigorously knocked on our door at three in the morning. 'No fucking, just sleeping' was enough to send him next door to add his input to the sonata. Another part of Thai reality experienced...

Top: the infamous poster and on the right side our morning surprise when we got up. Bottom: footprint and toilet in our "room"...

It was a different manager of a petrol station but also tractor business owner and teacher who helped us out a day later. Once again were stranded, nothing in sight and no safe place to camp when he walked up to me and offered his pavillion for the night. Of course for free but we insisted until he uttered a price. Just unbelievable how a solution always pops up in seemingly forlorn situations. We experienced that a few times now. A friend of my dad, the adventurer Louis Palmer, always spoke of it whenever I had the privilege of meeting him. Now I understand.

The most beautiful pavillion in the world and our home for a night

After all of that, a lot of walking, sweat and pain we deserved a day off in Phitsanulok. We thoroughly enjoyed it, machine washed our clothes for the first time (what a luxury!), took advantage of the choice of food and shops and just let our bodies recover. Slowly but surely the blisters are healing and the formation of new ones has declined. Feet, knees, back and shoulders are getting used to the 20 added kg from the backpack. Don't get me wrong, we have not yet had a pain free day of walking. That would be ridiculous. We went from 0 to over a half marathon per day with the extra weight - spiced up by the conditions. So of course it will hurt. Sometimes a lot. Sometimes less. Another two weeks and hopefully these side effects will have disappeared.

Top: our day off with some tourist photos, bottom: one toe nail I lost due to blister formation (a second one is due) and the half rotten looking small toe

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We are walking 5000 km through southeast Asia to raise money for MAG (Mines Advisory Group) to help clear mines in Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam. If you like this project please share the blog with your friends and colleagues and make a donation via JustGiving. Your help is greatly appreciated! 

Klick here to read this blog in German

Kick off

After an adventurous tuktuk ride through Bangkok we are sitting on the train to Ayutthaya. The chaos of the capital is no hiking territory so we decided to head well out of town... Thai rail seem so have adopted the optimistic Starbucks naming system. 'Ordinary', 'rapid' and 'express' are the designations for the different compositions - more fittingly they would be called 'creeping', 'very slow' and 'slow'. It is not air conditioned. Luckily there are people getting on and off the carriage with ice and drinks which lets us cool down. 

After completing the NZ blog in an internet cafe in Ayutthaya we decided to walk to our hotel. 3 km should not be a problem. After 45 minutes of trying to find a way to cross the river we are back at our starting point - hot, tired, sweaty and frustrated. How on earth will we be able to walk 5000 km if we cannot even manage the first 3? Disillusioned we got on the first tuktuk. Indifferent to the fact that the driver ripped us off we took a shower and went to bed straight away - wondering if we bit off more than we could chew with this project.

The rain on the next day was a saving grace. We did loose our way a few times still - mainly because google maps cannot tell the difference between through roads and dead ends - but we did not care. The drops falling from the sky were cooling, no comparison to the day before. Our main worry were now the stray dogs. They were so aggressive that we picked up the first best piece of wood on the roadside and turned it into a walking pole / weapon of self defence. This had the added benefit that it would underline our sentence 'we are going to Chiang Mai on foot' with the universal symbol for hikers. 

Elly fully geared up and impression from Azutthaya. Our only rainy day so far :(

The legendary Thai hospitality brought us a night in a traditional household (not the pseudo - traditional homestay with proper toilets, showers and a bed) - sleeping on the floor, showering with a hose under the supervision of geckos, toads and two fleeing rats AND vegan food, especially prepared for us. The house owner made a living from training kids in Muay Thai. His son was Thai champion in his weight class... When they heard of our project they strongly suggested that do NOT sleep in a tent. This was driven home by wild waving of the hands, formed to a gun and loud shouting of 'peng, peng, moneeeeeey moneeeeeey'. Two other locals later on performed the same act for us with the result that the tent is unused to this date (and will remain so until we're in less populated areas). 

Our hosts on the first day

After this truly wonderful first day late hot season caught up with us again. Temperatures soaring well north of 35 C and a lot more asphalt than expected made walking in the coming days hell. Blisters are our daily companions still and the only slightly cooling thing is ice on our necks. BUT there are the truly amazing, wonderful stories that make it all worthwhile.

Our two life savers: tape which allows us to walk with blisters and the little roadside huts every x km providing vital shade in 40 C heat

There is the tumultuous reaction whenever we appear. The whole family is called to look at these strange people, fingers are pointed at us. After uttering our travel plans their eyebrows shoot up so far that they threaten to join forces with the hair line, thumbs go up left and right and respectful wais (folding of the hands in front of the forehead and bowing), followed by hysterical laughter are performed. More than once people in the next village already knew where we were going... 

There are the drivers, constantly beeping the horns and waving or even driving backwards on the highway (if we had to hike next to it) to offer us a ride (which we of course declined) food or something to drink.

There is the poor farmer who has nothing, offering me his hat that I am not so hot (not accepting no as an answer or money in return). He also offered us to stay but overnight but we had to hike on since it was only 11 am. He invited us to stay with him if we ever come to Thailand again. As a goodbye present I offered him my hat which he accepted, visibly moved. 

Left: roadside fun swapping hats. Right: the generous and compassionate farmer with me and my new hat

There was Ben who gifted us a very touching encounter, stopping his car on the way back from work after he had seen us walking in the morning some 20 km farther south. He walked a small part with us and gave us his number in the end - if we ever run into trouble. Great to have someone speaking Thai and English as an insurance. If you are reading this: I know you will fulfill your dream! Never stop believing. My house is always open if you come to Switzerland... 

I could go on but in short: the reception we get is just mind-boggling! This truly dawned upon us when we spent our days rest (to give our feet and backs a break) as 'normal' tourists. No waving, no beeping horns, no respectful wais. A smile or 'sawatdee' here and there. In stead of the thumbs up mistrustful looks. We hated it and wanted to get our packs on quickly again... 

All our possessions including the vitally important dog defense weapons and the bright gifts from another homestay family dangling off our packs

Travelling on foot gives you the unique opportunity of not being able to ride, drive or fly away. You cannot miss any lovely encounters (great) but you also will not outrun the dogs wanting a piece of your gluteus maximus (not so great). You travel at the same speed whether the spot is in the Lonely Planet (in my eyes just another mass tourist guide selling the illusion of individuality) or not. You get to know the real Thailand in all facets - pleasant of unpleasant. This is usually the privilege of residents. 

Impressions of Thailand. Don't let the grey sky fool you - it is the thinnest of covers and the sun is burning down on us...

So what can we say after 200 km? It is a grind - a well worthwhile grind because of all the impressions that go straight to the heart and will stay with us forever. Valuable things don't come easy and you have to be willing to dig deep. So far we're loving the vagabond life!

Hand washing and drying on an improvised washing line

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Last but not least we would like to talk about something close to our hearts. During the preparation for this trip we were confronted with the dangers that remnants of the Vietnam war pose to us travelling on foot but moreover to the people living in especially Laos but also Cambodia and Vietnam. Mines and unexploded ordnances (UXO) are an omnipresent hidden threat that can cost a limb or even worse a life at any time. We only travel through these regions. Others raise children there - never knowing if they are safe on their way to school or even in the own back yard. 

The least we can do is help create conditions allowing them to build a future in safety. Clearing the explosives, which western countries are mainly responsible for, is the first step. That is why we decided to make this trip a walk against mines and for a safe future. Our partner of choice is MAG - the mines advisory group who do a great job. I would highly recommend watching the video below because it says more than I ever could... 

If you love our project we'd be most honored if you could share our blog, facebook fan page, and donation page on Facebook, Twitter or just spread the word. If you would even like to donate something you're our (and especially the local people's) hero!

Thaks for reading and for the love and support we're getting from you. It helps us when it gets tough...

South Island

Picton is a very pretty, quiet and small town. For most people it is the gateway to New Zealand's south if they are coming from the North Island. For us it was first and foremost a place of a very unexpected but happy reunion as well as a big disappointment. The latter was the realization that we would not be able to meet up with our favourite Dutchman and good friend Tycho. He had trouble selling his van and I had to sort out the return of my bond (Australian bureaucracy funtions on the primitive level of an amoeba) so we just missed each other. The worst about the story is that I am STILL waiting for my bond and could have just had a beer with him...

Lovely Picton

We were however rather surprised to see two familiar faces on a free overnight parking spot just outside of Picton. Chris and Stef, who we got to know in Adelaide, were just getting settled as we pulled up next to them. Neither of us originally planned to go to NZ - and yet we met in this most unlikely of places and had a good nights chat.

We decided to head towards Abel Tasman (New Zealands smallest national park) where we experienced the most furious of welcomes in form of a torrential downpour. Spending the afternoon in the library and the night on a carpark in Motueka was thus our option of choice. After an early start the sun greeted us and we had a nice 30 km hike through dense rainforest, past golden beaches and turquoise waters.

Impressions of Abel Tasman

Yet another reunion and two pints later (with a friend from Switzerland) we parked the van at the same location as the previous night. Just as we started to cook dinner a friendly ranger explained to us (very apologetically I might add) that we were not a self contained vehicle and thus not allowed to stay here overnight. On a side note he added (with a smirk and a twinkle) that he was the sole ranger this night and would not be patrolling North of our location. That was the direction we took after dinner. As luck would have it everyone was stopped by the police just north of the town. The officer made it clear to me (in a very likeable fashion) that he thought my reason driving at night was drink driving. He pulled out a device, about as wide as my fist, stuck in under my nose and asked me to count to ten. On a side note I need to mention that we blow into a small tube for alcohol testing back home. Still confused about how I should count to ten being gagged by this huge object I took a deep breath, tore open my mouth like a baby eagle prior to being fed and went for glory. The policeman hastily pulled back the device, visibly shocked, and was now fully convinced that I was drunk. A few explanation later I counted to ten -   this time into the device but at a two inch distance. The screen said 'zero alcohol', very much to the surprise of the officer. He advised us to drive carefully and we reached our camping spot of choice 45 minutes later via a narrow, windy road.

The following day had the highlight of the South Island in store for us. A deserted, stunning beach with a low tide pool which was inhabited by a dozen seal pups. Inquisitive as they were the intruders (us) had to be examined by sniffing feet and hands before forgetting everything around them, chasing each other and playing seaweed tug of war. After two hours and empty camera batteries we reluctantly decided to leave - we could have spent days here.

Baby seals playing on our favourite beach of Golden Bay

Big pacific swells to the west and mountains to the east dominated the landscape in the following days. The coastline makes the Great Ocean Road look pale - the mountains and glaciers however are far behind the Alps. The combination was nevertheless special, at least for a Swiss. 

West coast, top left: pancake rocks bottom right: lake Matheson with the reflection of Mount Tasman and Mount Cook

Inland towns like Wanaka and Queenstown are almost carbon copies of some Swiss locations - mountains, lakes and temperatures below zero. If it wasn't for the architecture and language I could have been fooled...

Switzerland - like images in the centre of the South Island...

On the east coast we were lucky enough to observe the yellow eyed penguins (only ~ 1000 left in NZ) coming ashore and setting up a spot to sleep mere metres away from us.

Christchurch was our last stop. Still damaged by the 2011 earthquake it was a fitting scenery to our slightly melancholic farewell mood. On one hand it was fascinating to see the power of nature and the reconquista of destroyed sites by pioneer plants. On the other hand individual stories and the hardship connected to it which could not be ignored.

Damaged buildings in Christchurch as well as autumn (in March!)

Goodbye New Zealand - unfortunately our dance ended all too soon. But Adelaide, Perth and ultimately southeast Asia are waiting...