Day 5 – More Heat, More Jungles, More Vaseline

Day 5 got off to a great start when we were all able to pack up our belongings and pay a sad farewell to the Bungalow complex which has been our home for the last two nights. I know the idea of a place called "Bungalows" in the Thai jungle probably conjures up lovely colonial stylee and cosy images such as these: 

The reality was something more like this.

That's where the bath went!

The morning’s cycling consisted of a combination of dry river beds, plantations and fire trails which we mercilessly pounded, not for want of speed records, but to put as much distance as quickly as possible between us and the toe-less machete man who had been our host over the previous 2 nights. The morning’s heat and frequent water stops allowed for much banter mainly surrounding Magic Adam’s deteriorating perineum, his improvised bush-medicine for the said condition, and his endless quest to obtain Wi-Fi.

My memory does not allow me the satisfaction of remembering what and why the WI-FI signal was so essential but I think it had something to do with the upcoming launch of some children’s shoe ranges at the prestigious Hobart Shoe Expo. That said, the WI-FI signal may have been solely needed to seek emergency first aid tips on how to deal with saddle sores and the associated discomfort. A signal must have been acquired at some stage because as soon as google could be accessed the urgent distress call went out for Vaseline and Sanitary Pads and before too long, he was all lubed up and ready to climb back on the saddle.  

Temple and statue stuff

Later that afternoon we reached the hardest climb of the tour, the HC classified "Route escarpée au temple" a 2km long drag up the side of an imposing mountain with ramps in part hitting 15%. It was a struggle for all to get to the top, lowest gear was being employed as the elevation metres on all our Apps went into overdrive. We all finally reached the top, pretty much as a tight peleton, and were able to enjoy the spectacular views that had made the trip up the hill so worthwhile. It really was a highlight of the trip........second only to the mad-cap death defying decent that followed.

Its fair to say that its not necessarily the best cyclist who reaches the bottom of a steep hill first but the one with either the least thoughts of self preservation or the lousiest brakes. Either way, it was always going to be GG who made it to the bottom first. We now realised that his King of the Mountains shirt was actually representative of his ability to go down hills and in no way should be confused for any stand-out ability in going up them.

GG attacked the descent like the wild crazy wacky guy he is.

Following the descent we had a 5km/20 minute saunter through to the finish.........which turned into a highly controversial end to the day. 

The highlight was just toodling along and coming across a couple of elephants having their afternoon swim and drink. Lets face it, it doesn't get more pukka Thai jungle than coming across random elephants doing their thing, does it?  Photos taken we then finished off the last 1km back to the bus.

About 5 or 6 km later Hayda, as self appointed Chairman, Spokesman and Agent Provocateur, decided to double check with the guide exactly how far it was to go considering as it was "just 1k about 5k ago and I'm out of water and jolly tired". Run (the guide) suggested it was just another K and Hayda followed that with a comment concerning whether he (Run) had any idea in the faintest what or how long a Kilometre actually was! This activity was classified later that night by David as "a serious sense of humour failure from Hayda" which was surprisingly not followed up by Hayda "kicking-off". No penalty was awarded to Hayda.

Hayda's recollections of the events are simply of a bit of jolly banter with the guide. That said, it was hot, we were tired, we were out of water, and we probably all smelt of elephants.

Another 5 or 6 k later we arrived at the Bus and were driven to the delightful town of Phang Nga.  Our quarters for the next 3 nights was a Hotel which, if rumour was to be believed, may have had a star once. That said it was nothing short of palatial compared to the Bungalows.

The Phang Nga Hotel was a definite improvement

Later that balmy night as we sat by the river, dining on a feast of Pad Thai and bits of pig, discussions about the trip-so-far abounded. Suddenly ETS, made an apparent innocent admission, that, when fully analysed would change the course of the trip and his nickname forever. 

The sin was of such magnitude that an impromptu kangaroo court was hastily convened. Where he would by duly blamed and convicted for his crime. His punishment was the only point of debate. After deliberations (and I must say a shocking lack of remorse from ETS) it was decided that the punishment would fit the crime.

Inspired by the concept of a "Jam Boy" where a local native boy in the tropics is smeared all over in Jam to attract all the neighbourhood flies and insects in order to keep them from bothering the VIPs.  It was agreed upon that ETS would be the Jam Boy for tomorrow morning and would be liberally covered with all the jam we could liberate from breakfast.

As we retired for the evening the only faint sound that could be heard above the hum of the mosquitos was the distant whimpering coming from ETS's suite as he repeated over and over "but i haven't done anything". His frustration turing to anger as he bit his pillow at the perceived injustice dealt out by his cohorts.

Dramatic re-enactment of the pillow being beaten.

His Jamming awaits.