The Empty Roads of the Isaan: Khorat to Phetchabun

With a somewhat heavy heart, we said goodbye to Khorat. The people had been kindly, the hotel magnificent, the sights simultaneously confusing and fascinating. We could have stayed several more days there.

This is, by the way, one of the most vexatious aspects of these month-long annual rides around parts foreign. We’re always on a timeframe. We’d love nothing better right now than to wander nonchalantly up to the counter and, with a wave of an insouciant hand, book in for another three or four days. But it was quite impossible. That would stop us from seeing more. Such limitations are why we work towards finding the way and means to do this full-time. I mean, sure, we’ll be on a timeframe then too, but it’ll be a timeframe of visas and flights. We always end these holidays saying we have to come back to see x and y and z. We want to see them now. (Stamps foot!)

Anyway, that day wasn’t today. And we’re still early in the trip. As my father used to say, don’t borrow misery from the future after which he’d nod sagely and take a puff of his pipe.

We saddled up our mechanical beasts of burden and sallied forth with more determination than ability. Of course, we almost immediately got lost. This resulted in a series of awkward U-turns and squeaky bitching in Hungarian from the comms device in my helmet. We eventually found our way onto the right roads. Google Maps was resolutely trying to save us ten minutes by taking us on highways, but we eventually persuaded it to use the back roads.

Thai roads are, for the most part, excellent. The main roads are as smooth as a pool table. Even the B roads are good. The four-lane highways we’d been riding gave way to two-lane roads meandering through the Thai hills. The scenery confused Dalma by reminding her of the mountain roads of her youth in Transylvania but then adding more palm trees. We stopped once next to a rubber plantation guarded by a suicidal dog who kept seeking his end by lying in the middle of the road and making high-speed cars veer around him, honking as they went.

Shortly after getting back on the bikes, the roads started to rise and turn uneasily twisty. I felt the smaller wheels of the scooters acutely. When you usually ride with a 21″ flywheel at the front of your bike, you feel a 14″ dramatically. However, the little bike held the road well, and I gained confidence. They really were fantastic little machines. The suspension could have been a bit better, and Dalma’s could have had a larger fuel tank, but they kept puttering along and carved the twisties like motorcycles that knew just what they were doing.

Soon, the cars dropped away, and we were left on our own. It felt extravagantly luxurious having these magnificent Thai roads all to ourselves.

We hadn’t stopped much today. We usually did, but today, we hadn’t felt like it. About an hour from Petchabun, where we’d decided to stay the night, we pulled over considering lunch. But no, we were a mere hour from our destination, and we were tough motorcyclists. This wasn’t the smartest decision of the day. Dalma, for those who don’t know, has some injuries from mountain climbing in her youth. About twenty minutes out, she and the bike began to complain; the bike because it was running out of petrol and Dalma because her back was cramping up. We pushed on. We made it into our hotel with a single litre left in her bike and with Dalma now in quite a bit of pain. We parked, and I hustled her indoors, where she came good after twenty minutes off the bike. It was foolish, this riding on when we didn’t have to. We resolved to do better and take regular breaks in the future. And fill up more regularly.

That evening was spent finding an excellent local restaurant where, with the help of Google Translate, we managed to order an excellent Isaan dinner. The Isaan, the region we were passing, is not a tourist area, and little English is spoken. But Google does help out with its magical programs. We drank several Leo beers (notable for being named Leo, yet having a cheetah on its bottles) and wandered back to our enormous rooms. Tomorrow, we will ride to the Lao border and Chiang Khan.