blood, sweat & tears (22-26 february 2005)

5 days. It will have taken us 5 days to cross the north-western part of Cambodia. 5 days of jungle, rocks & sand. 5 days of extremely slow kilometers, during which our arms and upper bodies work almost harder than our legs. 5 days of complete disorientation at times, when the roads split into multiple roads going in various directions or suddenly ceased to exist. 5 awesome days (now that we are out!), made of great difficulty (or so it seemed to us anyway - probably the hardest we've done) but from which we'll come out victorious thanks to the combination of 3 maps, a guidebook, a compass, a GPS, the sun and - last but definitely not least - the presence of a few local villagers, here and there...

The road, first. We leave Kampong Thom on 22nd February first thing in the morning and head north towards the Sambor Prey Kuk pre-Angkorian temples (1400 year-old temples!). So far, so good. The road is unsealed - but that's not surprising, we are in Cambodia. We take the time to admire these temples, before carrying on north. Only a few kilometers before we meet our first obstacle: 4.5 km of sand. We have no choice, we have to push. We are so slow. The heat is overwhelming. It is like the world around us has stopped: where are all those children who usually run to meet us on the road as we ride through, with huge smiles and big "hellos!", "OK" or "bye byes"? Where is the sound, so familiar, of the engines around us? The sounds of the local markets and temples? Instead of these, we get the sun beating down on us, a few locals looking at us with expressionless faces, and from time to time, a chicken running away looking for a bit of shade in some rare scrub, or the sound of a dog, far away, barking... And already, we can sense what will be the most difficult part of these 5 epic days: uncertainty... How many kilometers of sand in front of us? What is waiting for us? Would it be wiser to turn around now?

No, we do not turn around. And at the end of these few kilometers of sand, life - with all its sounds - starts again. We have got used to all the surrounding noise and sounds, and somehow, they make us feel comfortable, like nothing is amiss: the children greeting us, the monks praying, the karaokes, the markets, the engines, the roosters singing (what a song!) and the dogs barking... So we carry on, heading north still, and up until Rovieng, encounter no problems. The road is unsealed, with a fair amount of great big holes and sand, but most of the time, we are on the bikes, riding (a good sign). A 77km day the first day, followed by a 90km one - we come accross villages that very few tourists must have seen. We are alone and discover a Cambodia off the beaten track...

"We should be there (Stung Treng, our final destination) tomorrow night if we keep going at this pace", says Mike as we are pitching the tent that night... Not quite. We were about to discover what "lack of infrastructure" means in one of the poorest Cambodian provinces. In the morning of 24th February, we head east towards Spung (which should then get us to Stung Treng). The first 10km are sort of OK. But the road gets worse quite rapidly. Up until this particular place, where the bridge that used to cross the (dry) river has collapsed. Are left of it just 2 big tree trunks. But we have already seen that before - most bridges in Cambodia are either missing or temporary army bridges. No matter the state of the bridge, Cambodians always seem to find a way to get accross. So we keep going! But the road gets worse, still, and splits up in various roads or tracks. We try, at each intersection, to maintain the right direction, helped by our maps, compass and GPS. But how can we be sure, when the roads get damaged every year with the monsoon, and therefore from one year to the other, one might create its own road, or way, where it is the least sandy, or the easiest or the most "possible"? We go forward a few hundred meters or a few kilometers, and come back to the intersections, trying various possibilities. And after a while, that's it, we are back on the main-ish road, the one we are definitely supposed to be on. It is hard going but tonight, we should be out, so let's keep going! We push in the sand, and we carry the bikes when fallen trees block the way. We fight against those great big red ants that bite like there is no tomorrow and against those nasty plants that hurt and cut. Our pace is very slow, but still, we are making progress.

Until the time when, in front of our eyes, brains, bodies and bicycles that do not want to believe it, the road stops. Vanishes. Reclaimed by the jungle, most likely due to lack of maintenance/use. We are not keen to explore alternatives too much, as we do not know anything about this jungle and as we are very aware that Cambodia is still today covered in parts by the undetonated landmines that were used by both sides during the long lasting civil war. It is impossible to go through. All of this - our efforts, our hard work - for nothing. We have to turn back. And our water supply in Spung suddenly has disappeared. Our water bottles are almost empty and our thermometer is getting very close to 50 degrees! In our minds, we see all the difficult parts of the road we have just gone through, all the obstacles where we have had to push, carry, force our way through - for nothing. We now have to go through them again, the other way. Turning back is so hard. All of our efforts suddenly seem bitter, and worthless, as we are walking/riding back. We do not want to make a decision about "what's next" yet. Our priority is to get to water - we should be able to find some, we figure, by the broken bridge crossed earlier that morning, there were 3 or 4 small houses next to it. After that, we will think, discuss and decide "what's next".

Back to our 2 tree trunks accross the (dry) river. Off we are looking for a human soul living in one of those 3 or 4 bamboo and grass huts. The sun, so hot, hurts and the village seems deserted - all hide from the heat. But at last, we find them. They are 5 of them, men and women, 1 younger one and 4 older ones, sitting underneath the houses on stilts - hidden from a sun that is so intense. They are so skinny. They smoke their usual "local" tobacco rolled in their "local" leaves. They are sitted in a circle and watch the time pass by. Their lips and gums are bright red from chewing on betel nuts all day long, all life long. Their teeth are colourless, they don't have any left. Their faces are drawn and seem to tell a long story, they are beautiful in their own way. They look at us with an air of not understanding where we come from or what the hell we are doing walking under this damned sun. But their smiles overwhelm us, and these people are like our rescuers at this instant. They loan us their blue plastic container so that we can get a bit of water out of the green puddle left at the bottom of the dry river. We then only have to filter and purify it - and our brains can once again function. Where should we go now?

We dedide to come back another kilometer, to an intersection we had passed that morning and that is supposed to go north for 40km to meet another road heading east towards Stung Treng, still our final destination. But we are exhausted. And the 3 or 4 km that we manage to do on this road heading north are difficult. Until we reach, once again (no!), sand... That's it, more than we can handle this time. After all of today's obstacles and turn-backs, sand again! Yvoine gets off the bike to go and check out how long it goes for: is it a real obstacle or is it just a short stretch to test our mental state? After walking in deep sand for 600 or 700 meters, without seeing the end of it, she comes back to the bikes. Hard to feel positive and full of hope by then. We are over-tired, knackered - and the thought of having to turn back to come back to the start is just more than we can bear tonight. So we decide to camp right there and then, and when our heads are rested and our stomachs full, we will make a decision: go and face the sand and uncertainty heading north; or the known and safe option, go back to the start and take the main highway that goes accross the country, with its dust, trucks and traffic...

As we are eating our kilos of pasta that night, a sign - a very small one but still, a sign - comes walking towards us: one of the couples that we met that afternoon and that showed us where to find water walk passed our camp spot and stop for a while. They are headed to Sre Veal, a village about 5km north - maybe the sand does not go on forever and the road actually gets somewhere?! They are followed by a 6 wheel drive truck, going at about 2 kph, and that is taking a team of workers back to Sre Veal for the night (they spend the day in the bush, probably participating in one of the biggest environmental issues in Cambodia today: deforestation). We think, discuss and cannot make our minds up: keep going north, or turn back? We will actually make the decision the following morning only, as the moon is still in the sky above us and we are finishing up our coffee: onward we go!

And so we push in the sand, and push again on the rocky uphills. And we fall and fall again - well, Yvoine falls and falls again, who is struggling at times to control a bike that weighs as much as her on difficult terrain. We manage to pedal from time to time. We go forward, come back, explore various options at intersections that are not on our maps but very real. We even get a young Cambodian about to wash in the river to show us the way for a couple of kilometers... But we do go through the 3 villages we are supposed to go through (according to the map). And it seems that at last, everything will be OK: we will get there! We are only 5km south of the intersection with the main road heading east to Stung Treng and we know this road must be OK, since it is used regularly by the loggers (if we are to believe guidebooks... ;o). But no, that would have been too simple, too easy. Here again, the road stops, abruptly, taken over by the jungle again. We cannot possibly go through. So close! Turning back once again? No! Impossible! All that sand, those damned rocks, and those falls off the bike - all of that again, the other way, heading back to where we started from?! Here again, we come back a few kilometers to the last few bamboo and straw houses we saw on our way here...

And in a last attempt, we try to find an alternative in this village completely cut off from the world, it seems! Using our hands, arms, heads and bits of wood on the ground, we look for a road, a track, a way to avoid turning back. Finally, after lots of discussions with the villagers, it seems that we can head east and then back north to meet up with that road. We are not sure we have understood each other properly, but what other option do we have? It is either that, or turn back. While Mike goes to fetch some water in the local puddle once again, yvoine waits for him in the village, observing a way of life cut off from the rest of civilisation, where one comes to life, eats, sleeps, lives and dies in the same spot, surrounded by relatively similar and constant environments and people, and activities that do not vary all that much from one day to the next. Their lives are so different from ours. We are just passing through; tomorrow will be different, a totally new experience. What does it mean that our world has gone crazy or wiser? Our experiences in this world are so different, worlds appart. What can be, what will be the common language?

So off we go again, loaded with water and with a bit of dispair totally overcome by the optimism we decided, more or less consciously, to adopt. This must work! We find some energy left in us to pedal and to walk and to push! And finally, there, in front of us, we find the road those people were talking about. This road is so nice, it even seems one can ride on it (as opposed to push one's bike). We are so happy to find that road! Tarsealed roads are overated, really, this is good. A bit of happiness in the air, a reason for a small party, we decide to camp. The sun is almost down. We light a small fire and try to believe that tomorrow can only be positive. In the meantime, we make the most out of the present time - being together by a small fire, under a full moon, in somewhat magical surroundings.

Following day: we get up at 4:30am - we almost do not need a watch anymore: we have spent 5 days watching the sun and the moon. Let's go! The road that looked so nice the day before gets worse and worse quite rapidly. But who cares? It is the start of the day and nothing can beat us down. A bit of sand, a few holes, we keep going ahead, full of energy and determination. And then, at last, without really believing it can be true, we see it: we are at the intersection with the logging road (the main-ish one) heading east from Chaeb to Stung Treng. The one we were aiming for! So let's go, let's ride! And, unbelievable, we actually ride more than we push - awesome! We keep heading east, this is perfect, each kilometer taking us closer to Stung Treng. We start to relax and admire the scenery again, even take some photos... It looks like we might make it this time. Some 20 km before getting to the Mekong river (and therefore Stung Treng, which lies on the other side of the river, a short ferry ride away) we wonder what can happen to us next. Will it be 20 km of deep sand? A bike that breaks down? The jungle? Another fall causing serious injury rather than just a few bruises and cuts? The boats that do not cross the Mekong river anymore? What will it be that will stop us getting there? We do not want to believe we are actually going to make it. 4 km before the Mekong river: sand! We push with amazing energy. No, the sand will not stop us, not now.

That day, after 100 and a bit kilometers on our logging road, we finally get to the Mekong river. And there is indeed a boat crossing to Stung Treng! As we cross over, the sun is slowly setting on the horizon, and tears come to yvoine's eyes (to mike's as well but he does not show them I'm sure ;o). Here we are: Stung Treng. We have made it. All the way through. We are so happy. And dirty! A good shower later, we celebrate our little adventure with one of our last Cambodian beers (Angkor). And grant ourselves a rest day the following day. After that, off to Laos, 50 km north!